Marcus & Didyme Twilight Saga Volturi Story
by Damsell
Summary: Stephenie Meyer left questions open as to the attitude and background of the Volturi Coven. It is clear from the Vampire Index that the "bored" vampire Marcus had, and lost, a mate named Didyme. This is their story.
1. Chapter 1

**The following is a story about Stephenie Meyer's character Marcus. Little is said about him throughout the _Twilight Saga_, other than he is the "bored" member of the Volturi Coven. It was revealed at the end of _Breaking Dawn_ in the "Vampire Index" that he had a mate named Didyme. This is their story, in my imagination at least. I hope that you enjoy this and I appreciate any comments/reviews.**

Marcus stood with his usual bored expression, still as a statue. He could stay like this forever. As a matter of fact, he would stay like this forever if it weren't for Aro and Casius. If he could, he would stand here till his already paper thin skin and glazed eyes became more and more brittle looking and he became less and less human. He could stay like this forever and think of _her_.

_Didyme._

Even the name was like a locked away secret, locked deep in the empty chamber that had once been his beating heart. The name was sacred, like a prayer, and his brothers knew better than to mention it out loud. No one mentioned her name out loud. It was best that way. They did not even deserve to think her name, much less speak it.

Standing there he closed his eyes and attempted to block out the feelings he got through his "gift." Even though they were not I the same room, his gift reached out like tendrils across the distance of the building. He could feel the love between siblings that Jane and Alec had, and almost smiled as he noticed yet again that one felt more affection than the other. Poor Alec, he would never see what a monster his sister truly was.

There was the deep-seeded love and passion between his brothers and their wives. These were the feelings he tried to block out more than any other. It made the emptiness, the loneliness, seem more real and somehow more permanent. The connections he felt between mates were both a blessing and a curse.

It was a blessing because for a few fleeting moments he could remember what he had felt with his own wife: the love, the passion, the irresistible desire to be with her and have her near. It was a curse because he knew that he would never have that for himself again.

The truth of the matter was that he had loved Didyme more passionately than any connection he had sensed…until recently.

He let his mind wander to the young vampire Edward and the strange little human girl that had come to them a short time ago. He had let the façade he presented to the world slip for just a moment when he had sensed the connection between those two. He remembered the thoughts that had gone through his mind at the moment he felt them, "So strong! How is it possible…?" The mind-reader had assumed that he was thinking of the connection between the vampire he called his sister and himself. He had not corrected this assumption and had let his mind wander to boring, mundane thoughts again. He would not let his mind wander and reveal his thoughts to this Edward although the urge to think of iher/i after feeling such a strong bond was almost irresistible. It had been several days since their visit and now he could let his mind wander to the places it wanted to again.

Standing there her name wandered through his mind once again…

…_Didyme_…

He had never told anyone, not even his brothers, that the bond he shared with his own wife was stronger than any bond he had sensed before or since, at least until now. His brothers would argue that they loved their wives and, yes, he knew that they did, but the bond was not the same. It was like comparing two people's hearts and existence being held together by a serviceable, strong, gold thread to two people being held together by thick chains of iron.

That was what he and Didyme had had. That was what this Edward and Bella had.

Again, thoughts of the vampire and his little human made his own mind wander to the relationship he had had with his wife. He remembered her smile, her long flame colored locks, the way that they met….

He had been a vampire still in his youth, well, to him it was a time he still considered his youth despite the fact that he had been several centuries old, but, then again, that was to be expected when one had already lived for several millennia. Youth, it was all a matter of perspective.

It was said that vampires didn't change, but in truth, he had been different then, both physically and mentally. It was difficult to imagine with the bored exterior he presented to the world now, but then he had had a ready smile, a genuine laugh, and a twinkle to his crimson eyes. He had drawn in his prey, usually beautiful women, rather easily. Against their better judgment, they ignored the crimson eyes, and only saw the handsome face, the pale ivory skin set off by long ebony hair, the ready smile, and the charming manner.

Things had been fun then. If he could get past the pain he would miss the thrill of the hunt. There was a certain thrill that came with making your prey _want_ you. He remembered how the majority of the women he had seduced and lured to their deaths and welcomed the feel of his lips and then his teeth at their throats. They had _welcomed_ his attention, and then they had welcomed death at his hands.

After centuries of seducing the loveliest of women on his travels, their faces becoming a blur of delicate features, different colored eyes, pretty lips, and different shades of hair from blonde to black, he had begun to grow bored. Yes, all these women were beautiful, and their blood helped to easy the never ending thirst, but they also bored him endlessly with their insipid and predictable reactions.

Then he had met _her_.

_Didyme_.

He had been in Rome at the time and had been thankful for the overcast day. He was hungry and wanted to start his hunting early and the clouds had provided just the right amount of cover for him to start walking through the marketplace in search of his meal. The vendors were closing up their shops, putting up their wares behind sheets of heavy fabric. Bundling up into his cloak to ward off looks since it wasn't necessary to ward off the chill, his eyes took in the scene around him. Slaves, young and old, were helping their masters and mistresses. Children were running here and there, excited that the day was over, ignoring the splashes as servants threw water on the cobblestones to clear way the remnants of the day's work. He had been wondering how picky he would be about his meal when he heard her laughter.

The sound had stopped him I his tracks. It was like the sound of music to his ears and it would have set his heart pounding if it still capable of beating. The need to find the source of that magical laughter was stronger than the need to feed and he turned around slowly, ignoring the boy who had come up offering him some trinket or other, as he turned slowly. He didn't even notice as the boy caught a glimpse of his blood red eyes and ran away. Other, more important matters were at hand.

He stopped when he saw her standing there. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever set eyes upon with her flaming red hair intricately piled on the back of her head with dark blue ribbons. Her skin was the color of fresh cream with just the faintest of blushes under the scattering of a few freckles that were sprinkled across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. The color was even more enticing against the dark shade of blue of the dress she wore.

He was already planning how he would lure her in, wanting her blood more than he had wanted anything, when she turned, as if sensing that he was watching her. It was then that those impossibly colored, midnight blue eyes caught his own. As if that weren't enough, her perfectly shaped lips turned up at the corners in a smile that made him catch his breath as she looked at him.

She was perfection.

It was no longer about wanting her, it was about _needing_ her.

Yet, even knowing that he had to have her, his feet didn't move and he stood there, staring. Most women, most _humans_ for that matter, would have been put off by being stared down by a creature such as himself, but instead she just smiled, curiosity lighting up her eyes. She was the one that actually took the first step towards him, though her gaze flickered to the man at her side.

For a moment, as her gaze left his, he felt a stab of unbelievable jealousy that almost stole his breath away. He was still pondering at this surge of feeling when he used his ability to sense what the relationship was between this woman who had bewitched him and the man by her side. It seemed that she viewed the man as an authority figure of sorts. Not a father, no, but someone she respected.

She was speaking so softly to the man that he couldn't hear what she was saying above the noises of the marketplace. The older man gave him a dubious glance then let her go. As she approached he could find no fault. She was beautiful, graceful, even if she was human, and when she spoke her voice was what the stars would sound like if they could sing to the gods.

"Good evening, friend."

He didn't know if he was more surprised by how beautiful he found her voice or by the fact that she had dared to speak to him at all. Standing still as a statue he just watched her as her gaze grew more curious, and then slightly uncomfortable as he continued to stare.


	2. Chapter 2

His memories were interrupted as he heard Caius and Aro arguing again of what had occurred with their most recent visitors, but he didn't care enough to even sigh, much less get involved. Truthfully, he was glad that this Edward and his human had gotten away.

He wondered at that feeling. It was so rare that he felt much of anything anymore. At times he pondered if his mind and soul were becoming stiff and stagnate like his body.

Soul. Yes, he believed that they still possessed souls. He had to. His brothers would have laughed off such suggestions, but the idea that his wife was gone in all ways without a wisp of her left somewhere on some plane of existence was unbearable. The idea that he would never be with her again in some way almost made him frown.

Aro said something to him and he repressed a sigh and turned his vacant, bored gaze towards his brother and Caius, both of whom had now joined him in the room where he had been lost in his thoughts.

He was only partially listening to their bickering. Aro wanted to add Edward and Alice to their forces as well as see this human's potential once she was turned. The thought of this human girl becoming one of them turned his thoughts to his wife again. She too had been "gifted." It had taken some time to allow Aro to convince him to change her though.

_Didyme._

His thoughts started to drift towards the day he had met her again and he was just about to close his clouded crimson eyes and lose himself in the memory when Caius said something that demanded his attention again.

He barely turned his head, more interested in the way his long ebony hair brushed against his neck the way her hand once had then in what his brother had to say. It was the same argument; Caius was always ready to jump the gun. This time he spoke of sending a spy after the group to see that the girl was indeed turned. Despite Aro's insight into Alice's visions, Caius still had his doubts.

As Aro and Caius continued to argue over the matter, he finally broke into their bickering and said in his calm, emotionless voice, "There is no need, Caius. Despite this Edward's misgivings, he will change the girl."

Yes, he knew that in the end Edward would give into weakness and change his Bella. True, the boy had misgivings about performing such an action. He had had the same misgivings once and in the end, he had also given in.

When Caius voiced his doubts yet again, asking how he could be sure since Edward seemed to have so many misgivings, Marcus' only answer was, "I had misgivings about Didyme once as well, brother, and in the end, there was no choice."

Both Aro and Caius stared with shocked expressions as he said her name. Caius recovered first and scowled, knowing that he could not argue against that and before Marcus could see Aro's response he turned and glided from the room, the fabric of his dark cloak rustling softly as he made his way to his private chambers where he knew he would not be disturbed.

His chambers had hardly changed in close to a millennium. It was like a museum, a tribute to the life that he had once led with her…

_…Didyme…_

As he always did, he paused at the chamber door after closing it behind him and his eyes scanned the room. Her hair brush and comb, ancient things carved of bone and ivory, sat on the small vanity table in the corner. Strands of her red hair were still caught between the boar's bristles that made up the brush and the teeth of the ivory comb that was now yellowed with age. The polished metal that had once served as a mirror sat propped up against the wall and he remembered how she used to sit there and stare at her warped reflection (mirrors were not the smooth surface with perfect images reflected back that they were now) as he combed her waist length locks.

His eyes drifted to the wardrobe door that was partially open. Her gowns, made of silks and cotton fabrics that had withstood the test of time, hung as if she would waltz into the room at any moment and try them on. Even the toes of the sandals she preferred peeked out from under the edges of the long skirts that hung to the bottom of the closet.

These things held his attention for a moment before he moved to the edge of the bed that was at the center of the room and just stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the painting that hung above the headboard. A painting of her…

_…Didyme…_

She had been extraordinarily beautiful to him as a mortal. As a vampire, there was no comparison. No one could ever equal how beautiful she had been to him. No one had come even close in over a thousand years. Sometimes he would stand there for hours, just staring at her portrait. She had been perfection.

At times, he stared so long that it was almost as if she were there, standing across from him, smiling softly, her crimson eyes dancing with some unknown secret that she would eventually tell him, but no, there were no secrets anymore. She had taken his joy in existence with her to the grave. So, in the end, his converting her to an immortal had not negated the fact that he'd lost her.

In the end, it was the thought that she would cease to exist that had caused him to change her to a vampire and though he had lost her, he would do it again knowing that he had had her for as long as he had. He briefly let his mind wander to Edward and Bella again.

He would change her. In the end Edward would feel that he didn't have a choice in the same way that he had felt no choice in the matter. With a bond as strong as this young vampire and human had, he knew. He knew the future without having peeked into Alice's visions as Aro had.

Bella would be a vampire, just as Didyme had been.

As his wife's name drifted through his memory again he let out the softest of sighs and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander once again to that day long ago during the reign of Julius Caesar when he had first met the woman that would be his everything.


	3. Chapter 3

After she had said hello, he had just stood there, staring. It was only when he began to notice the slight look of discomfort on her face that he broke out of the trance-like state that he had seemed to slip into.

It actually took him a moment to find his voice and he whispered softly back to her, "Good evening, fair one."

Most of the women he had complimented and greeted in such a manner usually giggled and blushed, instead, the beauty before him merely smiled and a slight twinkle entered her eyes as if she enjoyed the compliment, though she was not overcome by it. Her impish grin only brought a smile to his lips.

When he was finally able to pull his gaze from hers, his eyes drifted to the man that she had been speaking to earlier. "Your…companion seems anxious."

And yes, the older man did seem apprehensive, watching them closely, fidgeting and hesitating as if he wanted to come forward and intervene. The beauty in front of him barely turned her head and she smiled. "He worries."

He could not prevent the chuckle that escaped from between his lips at her words. "Do _you_ believe he has reason to worry?"

She gave him that same impish smile and simply said, "Yes."

The surprise caused by her answer was evident on his face and it was then that he heard her laughter for the second time, a sound more pleasant than a forest full of songbirds. At his surprise look she laughed even more, but the sound only served to make him broaden his own smile, his lips curling upwards to reveal his gleaming teeth.

"Shall we?" was all she asked as she held out her hand to him.

Back in his room he finally looked away from her portrait and looked at his hand as his fingers curled softly against his palm, as if he were closing them around her soft, fragile human fingers again. For a moment it was almost as if he could remember the warmth of her human flesh against his own hard, cold skin.

Sighing he closed his eyes and stood there, as if reaching for the hand she had offered that day so long ago. Here in his room he could let the façade fall away, he could remember. Here, he could hurt.

Once, long ago, he had thought he could never experience a wave of pain greater than that of the fires of hell that had coursed through him during his conversion. Now he knew that the flames that had burned away the last remnants of his mortal existence were nothing when compared to the pain that he had felt twice since then, to the pain he still felt now.

_Didyme._

It was strange how her name was constantly in his mind. Once a heartbeat had set a rhythm through his body, now her name had taken the place of his pulse. One could time his existence through the number of times her name crossed his mind. It was always there even when he was involved with other business.

Opening his eyes he stared at the bed that was laid out before him. It was a grand, ostentatious thing big enough to hold an orgy of bodies. The dark mahogany wood that made up the intricately carved posts, headboard, and footboard were smooth with age.

He had not lain in this bed in more than a thousand years.

At first it had been impossible to resist the pull of burying his face in the feathered mattress and sheets as he tried to catch the last remnants of her scent, but then her scent had faded away and there was no reason to continue that unique form of torture that he had devised for himself.

There was no use in lying in the bed anymore. It was not as if it had ever been used to _sleep_. Some might have argued that there was no need for him to keep the bed at all, but he kept it as a tribute to her in the same way some people kept photos or other mementos to remember loved ones that had passed on.

He kept this bed to remember. Sometimes, standing there as he was, he could remember the way that their limbs hand tangled together, pale flesh against pale flesh, ebony hair tangled with locks the color of fire…sometimes standing there he could almost feel her again, feel the passion that they had once shared. Even now, after so many centuries without her, he yearned for that touch, that heat. But, as he stood there now, the physical desire was not what was on his mind.

His eyes drifted to his hand again and he closed his eyes, remembering that day when she had slipped her fingers into his. It was the day that had changed his eternity. She had become the hunter and he had become her prey. A bond had formed that day that he would not see the equivalent of in a millennium. It had formed as soon as she had taken his hand in her own.

He still remembered that he had not cared where she led him, where they went; all he had cared about that day was that he was with her and that he wanted to know more about the glorious creature who had ensnared him like a fly in a web.

She moved gracefully, tugging at his arm, as she wove them through the throngs of people leaving the market place. Not once had he asked where she was leading him. Truth of the matter was he had not cared.

When they had finally reached the outskirts of the market and were running, well, running at _her_ pace, she had turned around and laughed. It had been a carefree sound that had been so filled with joy. Her cheeks had been flushed, her eyes had sparkled, and several strands of her beautiful hair had escaped from the ribbons that had held it in place.

He had been mesmerized.

At one point he had wanted to stop running at the slow human pace that she was dictating and he had wanted to take her up in his arms and race off at the speed that only one of his kind was capable of, but he had not wanted to frighten her.

When they reached a road that led to the outskirts of the vast city, he had barely noticed and just continued to watch her, he had barely noticed that she had slowed her pace so that they were walking, but he did notice that her hand had never released his own.


	4. Chapter 4

Somehow, without conscious thought, he had moved away from the foot of the bed and was standing at the window. Italy had not changed as much as people seemed to believe. It was very much the same as it had been that day long ago when he had first met the woman destined to be his mate.

It was still crowded, noisy, and with the exception of the exhaust from vehicles, it even seemed to smell the same, but if one looked past the outskirts of the city, to the rolling hills covered in fields, it seemed even less different. Staring out there, time seemed to have stopped.

He remembered running through fields of wild grass located in the outskirts Rome, much like those he stared at now, that day long ago. He had followed her there without thinking. She could have taken him to the gates of Hades itself and he would not have given it a second thought.

Truth was, he had not even bothered to check where they were going and had only stopped and pondered that question when she stopped in the middle of a field of wildflowers with nothing else in sight.

His eyes had only left hers for a brief moment. "Where are we?"

Her laugh had filled the air around him, eyes twinkling and she said nothing and just sat, tugging at his arm so he would follow suit. Although she had no hope of actually drawing him down, he sat next to her in a graceful, fluid motion. Then, it was her turn to stare.

Sitting still as a statue, he just let her take in his appearance. Truth was he looked like a figure carved out of stone as he waited for her to do or say something, not that he was in a hurry. Several minutes passed before she reached out with her delicate fingers and tentatively reached for his cheek, but at the last minute, she drew her hand back and smiled a bit sheepishly at him.

"May I?"

He had laughed at her hesitation since it was something she had not displayed up to this point. "Of course."

For a moment he wondered if she would feel revulsion at the cold feel of his hard skin. Yes, she had held his hand, but allowing her free-range to touch his face was a different story. When her fingers rested against his cold, hard cheek, he closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. Her smell was intoxicating.

She let her fingers move along his icy flesh, exploring like a sculptress might study a statue she had just carved, or like the fingers of a blind woman trying to memorize the features of her lover.

Her scent was driving him wild as her wrist and palm passed right below his nose, but what surprised him was the other stirring he felt at having her touch him in what many would consider a simple way. He had not felt _lust_ for something other than blood since he had been mortal.

At this realization his crimson eyes had flown open and though her fingers stopped their exploration as he stared, she had merely smiled at him.

When he finally spoke his voice was husky and deep, a result of the hunger and lust he felt. "What is your name, fair one?"

"Didyme."

_Didyme_.

His lips moved unconsciously, shaping her name as he continued to stare at the fields in the distance. The name truly was like a prayer to him. She was gone now, but she was his goddess, the only higher power that he cared about.

Moving away from the windowsill he let out another sigh and before his lips turned down in a frown. Sometimes, on days like this, when he could not escape the memory of her no matter what he did, he felt himself on the brink of becoming as crazed as a newborn. But, it was not blood that he craved, it was her _scent_.

He still remembered how demented he had been at times after her death. His brothers had learned to stop sending members of their guard to come and check on him since several had died in the process. He had even attacked and killed a member of the guard through Jane's defenses. The pain she had produced in his mind was nothing compared to the pain of knowing that he would never hold his wife, experience her touch, or smell her scent again.

It had taken a year to get past that point, though he had relapsed at times. There had been the time that he realized that her scent had faded from everything in their chambers. The bed, her clothes, nothing held her essence anymore. Then, there had been the time that someone had mentioned her name as if it meant nothing. Everyone had learned their lesson after that particular massacre.

Now, there had been another trigger. Edward and Bella.

He saw the connection between them and longing for his mate had hit him like the smell of blood to a newborn happening upon a car wreck where blood was being spilled. And, though he had longed for her for centuries, the longing had become so much greater that he wished he was released from his promise and he would be allowed to die.

Perhaps it was the onslaught of emotion that had come at seeing the bond between Edward and Bella, a bond that was as strong as his own had been with his wife, but he had actually felt, well, _sorry_ for them. He had been glad when they had been released and in his mind, he wished them well.

But now, days after having seen them and having _felt_ what they shared, he missed his mate more and more.

_Didyme._

Already he had gone over the centuries he had shared with her in his mind over and over again. He played every little detail continuously in his thoughts and he remembered everything. If you named any date from the time when he had met her to the last time he had seen her alive, he could tell you everything she had said, every detail of the way she moved, even the clothing and jewelry she wore.

Lifting his hand to his forehead his fingers rubbed at the stone hard flesh and he frowned before letting out a sigh. How long would this last? It was a blessing and curse to remember her in such a way. He loved reliving their time together, but it also made him yearn for more.

His hand fell away and he let it fall to the windowsill, long nails scraping against the stone there. Unlike his brothers he only wore one ring on his pale fingers. It was an ancient thing made of silver. Reaching out with his other hand he ran the tips of his fingers along the simple piece of jewelry.

It had had an intricate pattern once, but after so many centuries of wearing it the silver barely resembled the piece it had once been. When it looked at it though, he only saw it the way it had been rather then what it had become.


	5. Chapter 5

She had smiled after she had said her name and her fingers once again continued their exploration of his features

She had smiled after she had said her name and her fingers once again continued their exploration of his features. Although it was almost painful to look away from her face, he let his eyes wander to the delicate hand that was now studying the line of his jaw.

Trying to concentrate on something other than the _lust_ and the heady scent of her he let his attention be captured by a ring that she wore on her thumb. It was a simple, but beautiful piece of jewelry. Whatever craftsman had made the silver ring was skilled and obviously loved his work.

He reached for her hand then and carefully took it in his. At this simple movement, she froze. His eyes briefly lifted away from the ring to her face at this action, but she did not seemed frightened, merely surprised.

He arched a brow at her expression and then mentally shrugged it off and let his crimson eyes wander to the ring again. His brows drew together as he examined the intricately woven silver that had letters embedded inside. Πλούτων. Pluton…Hades. His eyes flew up to hers in surprise and she gave him another sheepish smile as she shrugged her shoulders gracefully.

"Death," he whispered. That was what the name on the ring signified.

She had just nodded.

Frowning he stared at her, as if expecting her to reveal more, but she had just stared back. In fact she seemed to be enjoying the fact that he would not ask the questions that would sate his curiosity. And, in the end, he did not ask, he had simply said, "Explain."

She had smiled at the sound of his voice and simply shrugged. "I am a priestess."

He had rarely been surprised by anything over the last several centuries, but this young girl, this _human_, continued to do so with each passing moment.

His kind, vampires, kept up with the various religions that worshipped and paid tribute to the dead. After all, they could be extremely helpful to the _undead_.

His brows drew together again and he frowned as a million questions began to swirl through his mind at this newly acquired knowledge. A priestess of Pluto, or Hades, as the Greeks had called him, that was…unusual. For one most of the priests that served the god of the underworld were old men who were close to death's door themselves, what was this beautiful young girl doing as a priestess? It was apparent that she was not of Roman descent with her bright red hair and blue eyes. She was a descendant of the barbarian tribes that the Roman's enslaved, that much was obvious. How could a slave be serving as a priestess? Was the fact that she served the god of death the reason she had been attracted to him? Was that why she was fascinated? Was she seeking death herself?

He scowled at that last question flitted through his mind. If she wanted death at his hands, it would be easy enough. His lips could be on her throat and her blood flowing into his mouth before she even realized what was happening. But, looking at her face he knew that it would _not_ be that simple. She fascinated him _too much_.

"How?" was all he asked.

She did not need clarification on what he had been asking, apparently she already knew as the corners of her full lips turned up ever so slightly.

Reaching out with her free hand since he was still holding the other on which she wore the ring, she tried to smooth his furrowed brow and whispered so softly that her voice was barely heard above the slight breeze, "I have a gift."

The letters and the woven patter had worn off of the ring so long ago that he could not remember when it had happened. As his fingers caressed the cold metal he sighed again and looked out the window once more wondering for the ten-millionth time at the fact that fate had brought her into his life and taken her away.

The daughter of the underworld and the embodiment of death on the earth's surface made a perfect, but strange pair indeed. It was as if she had been meant for him, and he for her despite the fact that he had been born into his earth several centuries before she had.

He had been alone for so long before she had come along that he had begun to grow bored with his existence. Now, after being alone for several more centuries following her death, he did care about much anymore.

Edward was correct when he had told his sister that there was little that could surprise him, but what this Edward did not know was that when things did catch him off guard, as his bond with Bella had, the surprise was so unsettling that it didn't affect him for just a moment, it affected him for weeks, months, _years_ even.

He wondered if this melancholia would be his cross to bear for that long and he frowned at the thought. It had already been several months since Edward and Bella had been here and he found it unsettling how often they entered his thoughts.

There was no denying that the bond between mates was strong among his kind, but it was practically unheard of for such a bond to form when one part of the pair was still _human_. Of course he had heard of such things happening, but the only case any in the Volturi Coven had seen first hand was his own.

He found it rather ironic that Didyme's gift would have been the perfect solution to assessing the situation with Edward and Bella, but then life could be ironic like that. The priestess of death could have told them the fate of this Bella. He almost smiled at the thought of how Caius would have thrown a fit if such a thing had been possible. He had always hated Didyme's interference, but then it had become such a practical thing to utilize her gift.

Perhaps it was enough compensation to have seen the scowl that Caius had given him when his mention of Didyme had been enough to stop his plans from going forward. Truly, there was no need to spy on Carlisle coven. True, his gift had given him insight into the relationship between Edward and Bella, but it was _personal experience_ that gave him the true insight he needed.

His experience with Didyme was enough to convince him of what would happen. He didn't need to be a seer to know that.

Sighing, he closed his eyes again.

_Didyme_.


	6. Chapter 6

When she had said she had a "gift" his brows had drawn together in a frown. That would explain so many things, why she was obviously descended of those the Romans enslaved, and why she was a priestess.

Of course he knew of people with special abilities. He had one himself. Ever since he was a mortal child he had been able to sense the connections between people, of course the gift had only grown stronger with time. But, what kind of gift could this gorgeous creature possess that could have possibly risen her from the ranks of enslavement to being a priestess for Pluto?

What kind of gift would the temple of the god of the underworld find useful?

When more information had not been forthcoming, he had arched a delicate, coal-black brow above his crimson eye and waited for a moment longer before prompting her to continue. "Well…?"

She had grinned impishly at him once again and she whispered, "I could show you, but the truth is it frightens most people. Many do not believe I speak the truth unless a tragedy happens."

Her words only served to intrigue him even more and he reached out to run his own fingers along the shadow that was playing on her cheekbone. He was surprised when she didn't shiver; instead she closed her eyes and sighed softly, as if she enjoyed his touch. How strange.

"Show me," he whispered.

Opening her eyes she nodded and she turned her face towards his hand, as if she wanted to kiss his palm, it was as if she were the one taking in _his _scent now, but instead she reached up and gently pulled his hand away, placing it on his lap, and then she removed her other hand from his after placing that one on his lap as well.

Her small hands reached up and she rested her small hands on either side of his face before her eyes met his and she slowly leaned towards him…

Even now he could feel the warmth of her hands on his face, the sweetness of her breath making his nostrils flare as he tried to inhale ever bit of her scent. He leaned closer to the window as if he were leaning towards her rather than closer to a fall that would cause pain, but not his death. Sighing he leaned back away from the open window, realizing that he had been lost in his memories yet again. It was such an easy thing to do.

It was already late in the day, twilight. In a surprisingly human gesture he leaned forward, crossing his arms on the cold, stone windowsill, which was actually warmer than his hard flesh, and rested his chin against them as he watched the sun begin to disappear over the horizon. The beauty of it, the colors as it lit up the sky in shades of pinks, purple, yellows, and orange, was hard to deny, but he no longer saw the beauty in anything except the memories that flitted through his mind.

He had stood in this posture many times during the course of his marriage, and she had always come up behind him and wrapped her arms around him before resting her cheek against his shoulder. That was the most beautiful feeling in the world, having her hold him close. He had not noticed the beauty of sunsets then either. She had been the center of his world, his _universe_.

_Didyme_.

When the sun finally set she had always pulled him away from the window and they had made love for hours upon hours. The lovemaking would have gone on for days on end if it weren't for their other duties and obligations.

Now, he spent his evenings in lonely pursuits such as reading, writing, taking care of coven duties while his brothers spent time with their own wives. It kept his mind occupied which was a good thing. If he wasn't busy he could feel what his brothers and their wives were doing and it made him feel even more alone.

The need to stay as far away from his brothers when they were intimate with their wives had become so central to his existence since his wife's passing that it had been necessary to have his brothers move their private chambers since he refused to give up his own.

Now, it was more peaceful in the evenings when he was alone. At least it had been until this visit from Edward and Bella. Now he was obsessing over his past again. It had gotten to the point where he would not let Aro touch him for fear that his brother would see just how chaotic his thoughts were, how much he was obsessing again.

He knew his brothers would not deal well with that, not that he really cared one way or another what they thought about him, but he did not need to see that concern in there eyes, and he really did not need Aro to remind him of his obligations and his promises again.

He had only made the promises to his brothers at his wife's insistence and the promises had been to her as well. That was the only reason he had not broken them. It was those promises that held him to this existence.

He still found it ironic that she had been trying to prepare them for their separation even at their first meeting, though it had taken him more then a millennium to realize that.

That day when she had leaned into him the way that she had, her face drawing closer to his, her small hands on his cheeks, he had turned into a sculpture of ice, frozen, thinking that she was going to kiss him. Never had a woman been the one to move on him like this and it surprised him how much he yearned for her to press her lips to his.

But, she had not done it, instead she had closed her eyes and moved her head ever so slightly as her own nostrils flared and took in his scent. He had frowned, wondering what she was doing when she suddenly leaned back, and looked at him with a slightly shocked expression, though her hands never left his face.

Then her expression changed and she let her hands fall away as she leaned back again with a smile. "You are unique."

He hadn't been able to stop the laughter that burst forth at he words and he had reached out and tugged at a loose curl that hung across her cheek. "Did you need to use your gift to see that?"

She flushed a bit and shook her head. Reaching out to rest her hand against his cheek once again, she caressed his cheekbone lightly with a thumb and whispered, "You will live so long that your presence will not fade from this plane of existence till a time that I cannot comprehend, a time that I will never see."


	7. Chapter 7

As he continued to stare over the city that was now shrouded in night, he wondered if he would have taken a different course of action had he truly understood her words that day so long ago. Though he didn't ponder on that for long, of course he would have followed the same course of action. Though, in the end, he would not have made so many promises.

He listened to the sounds of the city drifting up towards him from the window where he stood. He heard people passing on the street below, laughing and talking, a baby was crying somewhere in the distance, and a young woman was sing in a soft, but clear voice. Closing his eyes it was this last sound that he concentrated on.

At first it was the melody that he paid attention to. The way her voice lifted and went through the notes of the song reminded him of ancient prayers that used to be sung to the gods. It was this realization that caused him to pay closer attention to the lyrics themselves.

When he realized what she was singing about his thin lips turned down at the corners in a frown. What were the odds? It was not the words of a prayer that she was singing; it was a poem, the poem of Pluto and Proserpina, the king and queen of the underworld.

What were the odds? It was as if she was haunting him at every turn.

_Didyme._

He continued to listen to the song till it ended and then he pushed away from the window and just stood there, head bowed, hands clasped lightly in front of him, eyes closed. If anyone happened to glance up at the window of the tower from the streets several stories below, it would have been easy to confuse him with a statue, handsome and perfectly carved.

He was as still as a figure made of stone, but the workings of his mind were anything but as he let his thoughts race towards the past once again.

He remembered how his face had gone still at her words, void of any emotion or change that might betray his thoughts. How did she know? _What_ did she know?

As if sensing his unease, she had smiled at him and leaning forward she had kissed his cheek, her warm lips just barely brushing against his cold hard flesh. In the end, that had been a very good distraction indeed. He could no longer keep his face impassive and the shock at her action became clearly registered on his features.

At his incredulous look she had giggled, blushed, and leaned back on her arms, her eyes never leaving his. He would have grabbed her and pulled her in for a real kiss if it wasn't for the fact that she had started to speak again, distracting him with the sound of her lovely voice.

"You know my name, but I have not had the pleasure of hearing yours."

Smiling at her words he leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand. She was like a magnet, drawing him towards her as she leaned back. He wanted to stay close, he couldn't help it.

A smile played on his lips as he spoke. "I am Marcus."

She grinned at him, flashing that perfect smile, and continued, "Marcus. What a lovely, noble name. May I ask you something, Marcus?"

He loved the way her full lips formed his name, the sound of her voice as it formed the syllables. He decided not to answer her right away and just looked at her in the hopes that she would say it again.

His patience was rewarded by her impatience as she spoke his name again. "Marcus?"

Hearing her say his name once again, one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard made him grin even more widely. "Of course you may ask your question, fair one."

She laughed softly and then, imitating his posture, she leaned forward once again and rested her own elbow on her knee and chin in her hand. "Did you figure out what my gift is?"

For a moment he had been distracted by the fact that her face was mere inches from his and he wanted to kiss her once again, but even her closeness was not enough to distract him from her question. His smiled faded away and he frowned. It took him a moment to find his voice.

"You see when death will take us away, is that it?"

She nodded and leaned in a bit closer, so close in fact that her breath had mingled with his and she whispered, "Does that frighten you?"

Even now the idea that she thought he could frighten him brought a smile to his face and he was no longer the still statue at the window that he had been as his lips turned up at the corners. There had been very little in the span of his existence that had frightened him, not when he was mortal or even he had been immortal. He was much too self-assured and cocky for that.

He hadn't realized that there was something to be frightened of until it was too late. Before he had turned her, the idea that he might lose her had scared him. Once she had become a vampire, well, the thought that she wouldn't always be with him had never crossed his mind. He hadn't had the good sense to be frightened.

Now, nothing frightened him at all. To feel fear one had to have something to lose. The only thing he had left was his existence, and he would gladly give it up since it had been practically worthless without her.

Though it wasn't much of a distraction since they had been the trigger in the first place, he thought of Edward and Bella. He remembered the boy's impassioned plea to have his life ended at the hand of the guard when he thought his Bella was dead. He remembered making similar pleas himself and having them ignored.

Well, they had not been ignored exactly; they had been brushed aside with reminders of alliances, duty, and promises. Everyday since he had regretted making those promises, in truth he would not have kept them at all if he hadn't made them to _her_.

_Didyme_.

The smile faded from his face yet again and he opened his eyes and turned his head over his shoulder to at her portrait once more as his voice filled the dark, still room.

"Why did you do it?"

He had asked this question a million times even though he knew the answer. Yes, he knew why she had made him promise to stay alive no matter what.


	8. Chapter 8

His life had not started when he had been born from his mother's womb, or even when he had been turned into a vampire. That night that they had met had been when his life had truly begun.

He really had found it amusing that she thought she could frighten him. In truth, he could not remember what it was to feel fear and the idea that this beautiful, mortal woman could frighten had honestly been laughable. He knew that he could kill her without much trouble, by feeding off of her or by simply using his superior strength on her and her "gift" truly did not bother him and he told her so.

"Death is part of my life, just as it is obviously part of yours. Death does not frighten me."

He had been a fool.

The fact had not registered that he had nothing to fear because at the time he really had nothing to lose, and he did not fear death because there was no one close enough to die. Considering the effect that Didyme had already been having that night, he should have known, but looking at her impish smile, her bright eyes, and flushed skin under the light of the moon, he did not think of death despite her gift.

Sitting with her as he was, death was not what was on his mind, and so he changed the subject. "Will you now answer a question for me, Didyme?"

She had grinned as he said her name for the first time and had nodded her head as she replied. "That only seems fair."

He could not resist reaching out to touch her hair, which seemed to match the red wildflowers in the field that they sat in, as he asked his question. "Tell me why you believe that you have reason to worry?" He was speaking of their conversation in the market when he had asked if she believed she had reason to worry and she had said yes.

It was her turn to laugh. "Oh, _I_ do not believe I have reason to worry, I believe my _companion_ has reason to worry."

He seemed confused by that, obviously not understanding what she meant. Seeing the confusion on his face she had leaned towards him again even as her hand lifted up to rest on his cheek. As she spoke her breath mingled softly with his and she whispered, "I knew you would come, my little death."

A steady breeze was blowing through the window, but it was the memory that made him shiver rather than the wind. He had shivered at her words that night since they had stirred up a very human, very _male_ instinct. It was only later that he realized that she had not meant "little death" in a sexual manner, but he had certainly taken it that way.

He was about to let his thoughts continue to replay that night when there was a knock at the door. He frowned, but knew that he would only be interrupted in his private chambers if it were truly an important matter.

Drifting towards the door he opened it and stood there, staring at the young member of the guard that had knocked upon his door. The young woman stood still, but there was fear in her eyes. He still found it somewhat amusing that the members of the guard feared him more than they feared his brothers. Most newcomers assumed that Caius was the one to fear with all his blustering anger, but when they learned about the history of the Volturi they found that it was Marcus who had killed more members of the guard than either Aro or Caius…and usually it was without much provocation.

Once he might have enjoyed the fear, now, he didn't enjoy much of anything.

As the young girl continued to stand there saying nothing, a brow arched over his clouded, crimson and his bored voice filled the air between them. "Well?"

Her voice shook as she spoke, "The Master Aro would like to see you in the library, Master Marcus." He just waved her away and closed the door again without acknowledging what he had said or whether he would comply with his brother's request.

He had no idea what Aro wanted, and he didn't particularly care, though it must be important if he had left Sulpicia alone for part of the evening. So, he was left with two options, stay and continue to submerge himself in his memories, or go and find out what his brother wanted.

He supposed if his brother could bear to leave his wife's physical presence for a short time, he could leave the memories of his wife behind for a moment as well.

As he moved to leave the room, he glanced to his wife's portrait once again, letting his eyes linger on it as he closed the heavy, carved wooden doors behind him.

_Didyme_.

He barely paid attention to the ancient, priceless tapestries and works of art that hung on the walls around him as he made his way to the tower's library; although it was supposed to be a communal space for all three brothers to share, it truly was Aro's territory and he rarely stepped foot inside.

Walking in his sense of smell was immediate assailed by the scent of the ancient scrolls, books, tablets, and other documents that were crammed into every corner of the rows of bookshelves and cabinets that could be found around the room. This was a place that any scholar would give his life to get into. The shelves were filled with countless, priceless texts, some going as far back as the library at Alexandria. (Aro had felt lucky to have "borrowed" those particular texts and scrolls before that particular institution had been razed to the ground.) There were the missing pages of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Several of the personal dairies of Da Vinci were somewhere around. (He had been an entertaining old fool.) Original texts by Shakespeare, Chaucer, Aesop, Homer, and other supposedly great scholars and writers were all here.

None of them held his interest.

Aro was sitting at his favorite table, an ancient thing that had once belonged to one of the Medicis. Others might have been frightened by the writhing figures depicting the scene from the different levels of hell in Dante's _Divine Comedy_, but it the pain that the figures displayed somehow suited his brother's personality.

It was not the table that had caught his attention, or even the irreplaceable, one of a kind texts that were all around him. Not even his brother drew his gaze; instead his eyes went immediately to the portrait that hung behind Aro's head.

It was a painting of him, his brothers…and their three wives. His wife stood out in the portrait with her flaming red locks. She did not fit in with the other two women portrayed. Sulpicia and Athenadora, both with hair so blonde it was almost white, seemed to fade into the background. At least they did to him.

_Didyme_.

He would have gotten lost in his memories yet again if his brother had not said his name.

"Marcus?"

He let his eyes drift to Aro's face after a moment, but he said nothing in response and continued to wait for his brother to state his business.

Aro did not have his usual, easy-going smile as he continued, his voice actually laced with some concern, though it might have been feigned. "How bad is it?"


	9. Chapter 9

For a fraction of a second, he pondered lying or avoiding the question all together, but in the end he let out a deep sigh and shrugged his shoulders as his dull, lifeless void filled the cavernous space of the library.

"I am dealing with it."

Aro merely arched a brow at the response and he lifted his pale hand from the scroll it was resting on and held it out to him. "Show me."

Marcus stood there, looking at his brother's hand, knowing his brother wanted to see his thoughts, and not just what he was thinking now, but every thought he had been avoiding showing him since Edward and Bella's visit. He let his eyes rest on the outstretched hand for a moment before he lifted his bored to meet his brother's challenging stare.

"I'd prefer not to."

Aro nodded once and with a sigh he let his hand fall back to the ancient piece of parchment that was laid open on the table in front of him and he nodded slowly as he started to speak.

"It is as I suspected. You have been good at hiding your feelings from me this time brother, but this evening…well, you have not spoken her name aloud in centuries."

Marcus said nothing to that and let his gaze wander around the library once again. It wasn't that he was avoiding the conversation; he just really saw no need to discuss it, but he should have known that his inattention wasn't going to be enough to deter his brother from continuing along this line of conversation.

"Is the bond between Edward and Bella that strong then?" Aro asked.

Marcus' gaze drifted to his brother. Of course Aro was not interested in his pain; he should have guessed that his true interests lay elsewhere. If he cared, he might have been upset at himself for not realizing that sooner, but as things stood, it didn't make a difference. Aro was Aro, and the most important thing next to Sulpicia were his "histories" as he liked to call them. He knew that his and Didyme's story were part of his collection, but he had no desire to read it. After all, he had his own memories; he didn't need to read his story as filtered through the eyes of Aro.

When he spoke he sounded as indifferent as ever. "Yes." He knew that Aro would require a more in depth answer than that, but he wasn't sure exactly what his brother was after. Was he beginning to think more along the lines that Caius was, that Alice, Edward, and Bella should be brought into the fold of the Volturi Guard or punished?

Aro waited for him to say more, but he said nothing. It became a silent battle of wills: Aro's desire to know and Marcus' detachment from the whole matter all together. In the end Aro's curiosity got the better of him, it always did.

Aro's voice held a slight hint of annoyance as he continued. "How strong is it? Are you sure he will turn her?"

Marcus stood there in silence as his gaze went back to the portrait behind Aro that displayed _all _the members of the Volturi Coven and once again his mind drifted back to that first night with Didyme. Yes, the bond between Edward and Bella was that strong and yes, in the end, he would change her…even if he did not realize it yet.

He remembered how she had called him her "little death," and instead of thinking like a vampire should, he had thought like a warm-blooded, lustful, _human_ male. At the time he had not thought of the blood coursing through her veins, of the fact that he could bring her true death in one swift instant, instead he had only thought of wanting her in a much different way.

He had not been able to keep his hands off of her then and as her sweet breath mingled with his, _he_ was the one that closed the distance between them, and leaning forward his had just barely brushed his thin, cold lips against her soft, full, warm ones.

The first touch of their lips had been like an electric shock and his superior senses had registered several things at once. She was delicate and fragile, so he had to be careful. She had stopped breathing for a just a moment, and as her heart began to race, blood rushed to just beneath her face, causing her to blush. He could feel the heat against his own face as their lips continued to move against each other's.

But, the senses that were really overwhelmed were his sense of _smell_ and _taste_! She smelled like sunshine and cinnamon and she tasted like heaven.

He had stopped believing in heaven a long time ago, but the kiss made him believe its existence once again in the span of seconds. Heaven was here and another name for heaven was Didyme.

_Didyme_.

His memories of that first kiss had only lasted the span of a few seconds when they were interrupted by Aro's impatience.

Standing up his brother frowned, "Marcus!"

Aro did not understand Marcus' disinterest in advancing the strength and power of the Coven. He didn't understand his brother's disinterest in _everything_, even though he had read his thoughts. Then again, Aro still had his mate. When he read people's thoughts it was like reading a novel. He could read about their emotions, but he didn't feel them himself and though he knew and had seen how his brother had suffered at the loss of his wife, he could not completely understand it.

Marcus looked at his brother and answered his questions. "Their bond is strong. He will change her."

He saw the look of frustration that crossed Aro's face, but he was not forthcoming with more information and he simply added, "Will that be all, Aro?"

Aro seemed to be warring with himself as to whether or not to push this matter further or simply letting Marcus retreat into his chambers again. In the end he sat down again with a sigh and nodded.

Turning to go, Marcus simply said, "Do not disturb me again for the rest of the evening," and with that he walked back towards his chambers, back to where he could be alone with his thoughts and his memories without having to deal with such trivialities as Aro and his curiosity.

He _wanted_ to get lost in his thoughts of her.

_Didyme_.


	10. Chapter 10

Even as he walked back to his chambers his mind drifted back to that first kiss.

It was a dangerous thing, the kiss between a human and a vampire. True, humans had to take many things into consideration when kissing each other, but at the top of that list were emotional considerations. In addition to taking emotions into consideration, the thing that a vampire had to take the most care with was their sheer physical presence!

He knew as his lips moved against hers that he had to take care not to exert too much pressure, even the simplest slip and he could take out a few teeth or, at the very worst, crush the lower half of her face. No, he had to be as gentle as a human kissing the wings of a butterfly.

He also had to resist the temptation of losing control and letting his lust overtake him. As their lips moved together, his gentle, hers more passionate and insistent, he pushed away the urge to crush her body to his and tried to stay content with their lips being the only point of contact between them.

In the end, he had been the one to initiate the kiss, and he had been the one to end it as well. He had no choice or he truly would lose control and the consequences would involve more than a "little death."

He was amused at the fact that when he leaned back away from the kiss, she had leaned forward and almost fallen in his lap as she tried to continue the kiss. Putting a gentle, steadying hand on her shoulder he had made sure that she didn't fall into his lap. That would definitely lead to things that he shouldn't be doing with her.

She only seemed slightly embarrassed as he helped her gain her balance and she leaned back and giggled. "That was…unexpected."

He seemed confused by that, not sure about what exactly it was that she found unexpected. He hoped she meant the feelings the kiss had generated, but he wasn't sure so he tilted his head and asked, "What was?"

She leaned back on her arms again and grinned at him. "The kiss."

His brows drew together at her words. Hadn't she been about to kiss him when he had closed the distance between them? That was what he had thought. For the first time in centuries he felt unsure and insecure. Perhaps he _had_ misinterpreted the signals.

Watching him she had tried to soothe his fears. "Marcus, I liked it."

Those simple words had alleviated some of the doubts, but he still wasn't sure exactly what was going on. The mischievous twinkle in her eyes made him think that she had secrets that she wasn't sharing, and he wondered if she would reveal what they were in time.

Walking into his chambers he immediately looked at her portrait again. It was an excellent likeness, but no artist had ever been able to capture that impish look in her eyes. It was a look that had always been there before she had become _his_. His keeper of secrets, his goddess of death, his Proserpina.

She had always giggled at that comparison, a former priestess of Pluto being compared to the queen of the underworld herself. Though, even she had to admit that their story bared many similarities to the story of the king of the underworld and his queen.

It was their own private joke that the scene carved into the footboard and headboard of their massive bed depicted the myth of Pluto on Proserpina. There was one major difference between their story and the myth: Proserpina had been unwillingly taken by Pluto, Didyme had been anything but.

_Didyme_.

He just stood there, staring at the bed, staring at her painting and, if he had been capable, tears would have been streaming down the papery thin, sheer skin of his cheeks. Sometimes, memories just weren't enough.

His body moved automatically without his really thinking about it, and before he knew it he was at the large wardrobe in the room. He opened the large creaking door and his hands reached out to caress her gowns. His snow white hands were trembling from the internal struggle going through his mind.

He wanted to take the gowns in hand, ancient things made of silk and cotton that he preserved over the years, and bury his face in the fabrics. But, at the same time he wanted to keep away since he knew he wouldn't find what he was looking for, her _scent_.

It was difficult, but finally logic won out over desire and he pulled his hands back and hurriedly closed the doors to the wardrobe before he changed his mind. If he gave into his desires he might destroy the delicate fabrics in the search of something that had faded away long ago, her _scent_!

In the same way that he had just struggled over not grabbing her gowns, he had struggled that night they had met not to pull her close and take her in a way that no vampire should take a human.

It had been difficult not to reach out and take her in his arms, especially after she had told him that she had enjoyed the kiss. She became even more of a temptation when the breeze had picked up and her scent had wafted to him. Sunshine and cinnamon, that was the closest things he could compare her scent to.

But, it wasn't only her scent that had attracted him. He had seen, and killed, many beautiful women throughout his life as a vampire, but nothing could compare to her as she sat back in the pale moonlight. The beauty of those women was insignificant in comparison to the beauty before him.

He could have sat there for hours watching her as the breeze lifted up her red curls, making them seem like flames moving around her head. His eyes appraised her as the same wind pressed the fabric of her gown against her in the most delightful ways. He didn't realize the animalistic way that he had been looking at her till he heard the hesitation in her voice as she finally spoke again.

"Marcus?"

Realizing that he must look frightening to her looking at her in lustful hunger, he pushed the feelings away and gave her a bit of a strained smile.

"Yes, Didyme?" he replied.

She reached up and with delicate fingers brushed a curl from her cheek she looked doubtful for the first time since she had approached him in the market and she whispered, "Did you not enjoy it?"

Yet again, she surprised him. He was sure the look of hesitation the doubt in her features was all due to the fact that he had given her a glimpse of the beast that he was, instead she had feared that he hadn't enjoyed the kiss.

He gave her a incredulous look for a moment and then he had thrown back his head and laughed, a sound of pure joy that floated around the air of the field they sat in, a sound that no one had heard since his human years.


	11. Chapter 11

Laughter, smiling, they were both things that neither of his brothers had seen from him during that period unless they were feigned actions conducted as part of a game to attract his prey. No, the genuine laughter that he let loose along with the wide smile on his face were rare things indeed. Both Aro and Caius considered that part of him to be dead.

Although he was close to his brothers at the time that he had met Didyme, he had been spending more time away from them despite the fact that they still considered themselves a coven. It was hard since Aro had been with Sulpicia for some time and then Caius had found Athenadora. He was extra baggage at times and that was why he had found himself alone more than not.

Now, even though he was with his brothers on nearly a daily basis, hardly ever leaving the tower, he was alone again. It was only people that had experienced great love, and loss, that understood what it truly meant to be surrounded by people and still be alone.

Edward had understood.

Though he had not shown it, he had felt for the boy when he had come, pleading to have his life ended. He had felt for the boy because he had once begged for the same thing. Caius had been in his usual mode of "kill for the sake of killing," Aro had wanted to save the boy because of his gift, and he…he had been torn, wanting to grant the boy his wish and end his suffering while at the same time wanting him to live so he could know that someone, somewhere was suffering as much as he did.

The latter had been a cruel and unfair thought, but he had had to deal with this for so long without anyone understanding his pain that he almost wished that this Edward would continue to live and be part of their guard, if only so he could feel better about what he had suffered.

From what Aro had told him and Caius about this boy, there were just too many parallels to ignore. Edward had been alone; the only member of his coven without a mate, and then this Bella had come along and changed the very essence of who he was. Didyme had done the same for him.

_Didyme_.

That first night that they had met had seemed to go on forever, and yet, it had not been long enough.

When his laughter had finally faded, long after she had stopped starring at him curiously, wondering why he was laughing, and joined in with laughter of her own, he had grinned at her and very carefully pulled her close again as he whispered, "I enjoyed it more than I should have."

She did not question why he did not believe he should have enjoyed the kiss as much as he did, perhaps it was because she was distracted by the fact that he was pulling her to settle onto his lap. As he did this, he watched her carefully, examining how she would react to being so close to his cold, hard flesh, but she didn't seem to mind.

Instead, she had seemed to enjoy it. Settling there, she lifted her hand up and gently brushed a lock of his ebony hair away from his face, her midnight blue eyes staring into his crimson ones. Then, she started to lean into him again and he thought she wanted another kiss.

He had started to lean in to brush his lips against hers once again, but she stopped him with another playful smile and a hand that was no more forceful than a breeze pressing against his shoulder.

As she spoke, her breath mingled with his, "I have to go."

He frowned at her words and without thinking he had cradled her in his arms and ran off towards the wooded area that was not so far off as he growled, "No!"

If she hadn't been frightened before, he had expected her to be frightened then, but again, she surprised him and her laughter tinkled around them as her arms wrapped around his neck. She seemed more exhilarated than anything and that was what caused him to slow his run and then stop all together as he looked at her in surprise.

His incredulous look only served to make her giggle and she hugged him tightly, burying her face against his neck and she whispered again. "I have duties. This won't be the last time you'll see me, Marcus. I swear it."

He had had no doubt that she was speaking the truth, mainly because he would make sure that this would not be the last time that they were together. Despite that, he still didn't want to let her go.

At least not until her breath tickled his ear as she whispered softly, "Please, Marcus."

Scowling, looking more like a spoiled child he started to carry her back to the city, his voice pouty, "When? When will I see you again?"

Smiling at him she had touched his cheek once again and whispered, "Soon."

Soon was never soon enough when he was away from her. He felt like that that first night and he felt like that as he stood in his room and realized that the sun was coming up again.

The light was barely beginning to filter through the clouds and was just starting the shadows in his room to retreat to their dark corners again. He had been so lost in his memories he did not realize that the whole night had come and gone, but then again, he rarely noticed when time passed from one day to the next.

If it weren't for the fact that today was a feeding day he might have pondered staying in his chambers all day, but as it was the burn of hunger was there in the back of his throat and he knew that the only way to sate the thirst was to be in the main counsel chambers when the unsuspecting humans that were gathered were herded in like cattle to the slaughter.

If he cared, he would hate this form of feeding, but truth was he didn't care about that or much of anything anymore. He only cared about his memories of her.

_Didyme_.

Though he wanted to believe that there was still the possibility that his kind possessed souls, there was no way to be sure, and if there were no souls to exist beyond their deaths, then his memories were the only thing that kept her alive.


	12. Chapter 12

He changed into something that looked exactly like he had been wearing before, a dark all black suit and his dark black cloak that marked him as a member of the Volturi Coven. He could have gone on wearing the same thing forever, but dust tended to settle on his clothing from being still for so long.

As he pulled on his slacks, shirt, tie, and jacket, each in the same shade of black, he wondered at the clothing of this modern time. He much preferred the clothing of the time in which he had met his wife. It allowed more freedom of movement, not that the fabric of these clothes were much of a hindrance to his powerful frame, but it seemed more binding somehow. He put on a necklace that hung on a heavy gold chain and had a locket at the end of it. Unlike his brothers, this and the ring on his finger were the only jewelry he wore.

Once his cloak was in place he made his way from the room and moved towards the counsel chambers. He knew from the scent that humans were being led into the office front that was nothing more than a façade, and if he didn't arrive soon his brothers would send another member of the guard after him.

It never escaped his notice that each time they sent someone to call him it was a pretty female. He knew that they were trying to tempt him, but he was no longer temptable. There had been no woman for him since his wife's demise. Most of these females that had been sent were too scared of him to even attempt to seduce him, and the one time that a pretty blonde had dared to touch him, well, just moments later she had been a pile of stone flesh in his hearth and he knew that the others had smelled the strong scent of one of their own being burned to ashes in his hearth.

No one mentioned it and no one asked what had happened.

It was strange how violence came so easily to him with mortal and immortal women alike. It was strange because after that very first inclination to feed of her, his thoughts towards Didyme had been anything but violent. In fact after their initial meeting his mind had constantly gone over ways that he could keep her and _not_ harm her.

That night he had kept her in his arms as long as possible, carrying her back to her home, the Temple of Pluto, and though he had been reluctant to let her go, he had done so, but only _after_ she had kissed him.

Standing outside the temple she had seen his reluctance to put her down. He had scowled at the temple as if the building itself were responsible for taking her from him. She had smiled at his expression and then she had rested her hand on the side of his face and he had turned to face her.

As he midnight blue eyes had locked with his crimson ones, she caressed his cheek gently with her thumb and had whispered. "Tomorrow."

He had frowned and nodded, though he still hadn't wanted to let her go, and then she had leaned in and moved her soft, full, warm lips against his hard, thin, cold ones. She had let the kiss linger and then she had slipped from his arms and run off towards the temple, smiling over her shoulder once before she disappeared past the columns into the dark recesses of the temple.

How it had hurt him to have her leave as she had.

How it hurt him now to know that she had left him forever.

_Didyme_.

As he continued down the hallway he barely noticed as Caius and Athenadora had joined him, walking to his left, their footfalls as silent as his own. From the corner of his eye he noticed that Caius was scowling as usual, and that his mate was caressing his arm soothingly as he escorted her towards the chambers.

Athenadora's soft, whispery voice broke the silence, "Good morrow, Brother Marcus."

He barely acknowledged her with a curt nod and then increased his pace, reaching the counsel chambers seconds before they did.

Heidi was still herding in their meal like pigs to the slaughter so he moved to one corner of the room and simply waited as he examined a painting of Rome the way it had been all those years ago. Aro and Caius did not look upon the time as wistfully as he did. To them it had been just another period of political change and upheaval among petty humans.

How strange that they never saw the parallels to what they had done among the world of immortals to the way these humans fought for power. Aro, who hated comparisons to humans in any way, shape, or form, might actually scowl at the idea.

This almost made him smile, but not quite, and he continued to stand there, looking as detached and bored as ever as the overpowering smell of their meal assailed him as the chamber doors were open and Heidi's catch was led into the room.

His mind calculated that she had brought in a good haul this evening, more than fifty all together. This would be more than enough to sate the hunger of those that fed within the Tower. Lesser members of the guard still fended for themselves.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the smells that wafted in the air in the same way that a patron at a restaurant might take in the scents of meals being brought out from the kitchen. The difference was that he ate to quench the fiery thirst that never went away; he didn't take pleasure in feeding anymore like he once had.

He didn't take pleasure in anything.

Turning slowly he began to take in the large crowd before him. He could smell their fear as clearly as if it were a perfume that they had suddenly been doused in. He knew that this scent was something the spurred the others in the room on and they were already picking out those that would attempt to put up the most struggles for their prey.

He usually kept to the quieter ones, the ones too shocked by fear to do much but stand there as he drained their life away. There was no joy in anything anymore, why should this be different. As he scanned the crowd, loved ones and strangers huddling together as if this could somehow protect them, his breath froze in his cold chest as he got a glimpse of something that he had not seen in years…in centuries, at least not within the confines of these walls.

There, at the back of the crowd, with her back to him, was a small woman with flaming red hair.


	13. Chapter 13

Problems always occur when your thoughts, hopes, dreams, and reason for living are all part of memories rather than the present. One of the results of this is apathy. That was something that was present in abundance in Marcus' case. The bored expression that came along with the uncaring attitude was constantly present and people had come to expect it of him.

Another consequence that Marcus did not experience as often—in fact it hadn't happened for centuries—was that the present got lost in the past and the two began to intermingle in ways that were incomprehensible and had dire results.

For over a millennium his brothers had made sure that certain things were not brought up or done in his presence. One of the main things that they had done was keep women that had Didyme's coloring out of his presence.

In all honesty, it really wasn't that difficult to do. That flaming red hair had been unique in the vampire world, it was almost as rare in the mortal world, and they made sure that whatever member of the guard had the responsibility of gathering their prey did not bring such women into their chambers.

Heidi had not been remiss in her duties, but this woman with flaming red hair had snuck in with the rest of the group, buying Heidi's lies about a tour of an exclusive private collection in a private residence of Volterra. Not that any of that mattered now.

Marcus had been concentrating on his memories for so long that when the girl suddenly turned, it was not her features that he saw, instead he saw Didyme's perfect vampire features and crimson eyes superimposed on this strangers.

"Didyme!"

He did not even realize that he had spoken the name out loud and it was such a reverent whisper that no one had heard him.

His brothers had not notice the expression on his face or the woman yet, so they did not realize the furious, ancient beast that had just been released in their midst.

He saw that his brothers and their wives had chosen their prey and watched as one of the guards reached to yank the woman with the flaming hair towards him, teeth bared and he saw red.

As some had already started to feed and there were cries of terror in the air, no one noticed his hiss or the indistinguishable blur that he became as he flew through the room and grabbed the girl from the guard, yanking her away and pulling her towards his chest at the same time that he sent the guard flying through the air towards a far wall, the stone buckling under the force.

He was in the corner holding the girl close, hissing as he crouched over her protectively as the others, alerted by the guard being thrown across the room, stopped their frenzied feeding to stare at him.

Yes, Marcus was too far gone at the moment to notice several things. His coven, his brothers and their wives, and their guard were staring at him in stunned silence. He didn't really notice that the girl in his arms was not his Didyme.

He didn't notice that she was dead.

When he saw her as Didyme, he had seen the fragile girl as a vampire, not a mortal. The way that he had grabbed her, yanking her towards his cold stone body had shattered several bones and as he gathered her close a rib had broken, piercing her heart.

As he crouched over her, protecting the limp body that his mind had tricked him into thinking was Didyme by simple virtue of her hair; he didn't notice that she was dead.

The others did though and they stared as he hissed and crouched protectively over the dead body, some of the more recent members of the guard not understanding his behavior. The older members of the guard and the coven saw the red hair an understood, but still looked upon his hissing, growling form in horror as he clutched the dead girl so close that they could hear her bones crushing, though he seemed completely obvious to the fact.

It was Aro that dared step towards his brother, for once there was no smile on his face. Holding up his hands as if to show he meant no harm he whispered. "Put her down, Marcus."

He could only hiss, his vision still clouded red, venom overflowing in his mouth, as he responded to his brother.

Aro stopped his progress forward and his brows drew together in a rare frown and he said more gently, "It's not _her_, brother."

_Not her_? he thought.

_Didyme?_

He had enough presence of mind to look down, but it was not his beautiful Didyme in his arms. His body was still as a statue carved of marble as he took in the red hair, now plastered to the blood that was spilling from the corner of her mouth and thrown across her face. Then, with a gentleness that many present had not seen him display, he let out a heaving breath that was almost a sob and brushed the red locks from the girl's face with gentle fingers.

There was a time when he might have considered the girl in his arms beautiful, but that time had been long ago, before his wife had entered his life. Now, there was no attraction for him in the wide, unstaring, now dead green eyes and pretty features.

He continued to cradle the body in his arms for a moment, rocking it gently as he pretended for just a few seconds that this dead girl, a girl he had killed, really was his wife.

_Didyme!_

From the corner of his eyes he noticed that Aro, Sulpicia, Caius, and Athendora all watching him. The rest of the room had somehow emptied out, but he didn't notice, he only noticed their looks of worry, pity, and frustration.

It was those looks that got him to drop the girl before he pushed past them quickly. Then he was gone, locking himself in his chambers yet again.

Curled up there at the footboard at the bed where he had once made love to his wife, he gripped fistfuls of his hair so tightly that his already pale knuckles turned bone white and he remembered holding Didyme in a similar manner to the way he had held the nameless girl lying dead in the counsel chambers.

He had once worshiped fate for bringing her into his life. Since her death he thought of fate as a cruel monster that had showed him beauty for only a moment to have it snatched away, leaving him longing for what he couldn't have for an eternity.


	14. Chapter 14

He had had images of Didyme dead before, very real images that had driven him to act in ways that his brothers and their wives considered insane, but that was long ago in the year after he had met Didyme, when she had been human.

He had grown attached to the girl since that first night that they had met, his brothers would have called it obsessed while his sisters-in-law would have labeled it something all together different. They saw the way he acted, his tone when he spoke about the girl, they knew he was in love.

Love. He hadn't really thought of such an emotion being applied to him until Didyme herself had mentioned it. They had been sitting on the shadowed steps of Rome's many amphitheaters in the middle of the night, high up on the upper tiers just talking. It was easy for him to bring her into places like that that were supposedly off limits and guarded when not open to the public masses. In fact, he had enjoyed taking her into such places and opening a new world to her.

She had not seemed to mind his cold skin as she curled up against him in the darkness; instead it was almost as if she welcomed his cool touch and he craved it as well. He always too precautions before he took her sleeping from her small room in the temple after her evening prayers and rituals were done and fed to excess at the slave camps and slave markets. It was not as fun to hunt prey that couldn't run, but it was also the easiest place to feed since no one questioned the facts that an abundance of slaved died on a daily basis due to various diseases and maltreatment. No one saw anything supernatural when there were a few extra deaths that were unexplained.

She knew what he did, after all, she was a rare creature uniquely attached to death, but she didn't seem to mind. When he questioned her on this she had simply said, "It is who you are and I love who you are."

Love.

Such a strange word, such a _human_ emotion, and she hadn't said she loved _him_ just what he was. How strange.

After she had spoken those words to him one night while he held her close he had turned the word and her image over and over again in his mind. He realized then that he _did_ love her, but he also wondered if it was a futile emotion. She was human. He was not.

Aro and Caius had brushed this off when they realized that his feelings for the girl were stronger than they had imagined. It was something that was easily remedied. All he had to do was turn the girl.

To him it was not that simple of a decision.

He knew that Aro was intrigued by Didyme's gift and Caius just wanted to stop wasting time on such an insignificant thing as the fate of some human woman.

He was reluctant because he feared that part of her appeals _was_ the fact that she was human. He doubted that his feelings were changed if she became a vampire, but he was worried that _hers_ would. What if she was altered so much by the change that she no longer wanted to be at his side?

These doubts and the idea that she might hate him for changing her were what stopped him, though the fact that she was mortal also continued to torment him.

When he was not with her and she had to be with her fellow priests and priestesses, he worried about all the things that could happen to her. Rome had achieved some semblance of peace under the rule of this dictator Julius Caesar, but the city still had a dangerous underbelly where crime was present and people were killed at hurt. And, though many didn't realize it, he could see the bonds between the dictator and those that he kept closest were not as strong as the dictator seemed to think. No, he had known that political upheaval was not far off in the future and that when Caesar's allies turned on him that there would be many other lives lost, including those of civilians like Didyme.

He had tried to reason that she was safe. It was rather ironic that her position as a priestess to death would most likely keep her safe from it. No one wanted to court the anger of Pluto and bring death upon themselves after all.

But, he had not been able to stay at Didyme's side twenty-four seven. She had her duties, and he had his. His duties kept him in Volterra in the days while she stayed in Rome and he only sped towards her faster than the human eye could see when he knew he could be with her. As he ran there was only one thought in his mind…

…_Didyme_…

The fact that they were separated more than he would have liked was what eventually led to what was almost her downfall.

Like many priests and priestesses, Didyme had been required to attend a number of functions for the dictator and the senate. The Roman government did not want to take any chances with the gods and goddesses. It was at one of these gatherings that the Caesar had brushed against her and her gift had come into play.

She had not even thought much of it when she reached out and grasped the dictator's robes and whispered breathlessly, fear in her eyes, "Beware of the Ides of March!"

Caesar, though he had presented himself as a devout follower of the pantheon of gods and goddesses that the Romans believed in, even going so far as to claim that he had divine blood himself, merely chuckled at the warning that the red-haired beauty had given him, but her fellow priests and the men who were already conspiring against him took it quite seriously.

Too seriously.

Her fellow servants of Pluto had hustled her off after the words had escaped her lips and the conspirators were already taking note, planning to silence her.

When she had told Marcus what had happened that evening, he felt dread course through him the way blood had once coursed through his veins. A million thoughts went through his mind; chief among them was her lying dead in an alley somewhere, a victim of the plot that seemed to have already been set in motion.

It was this image of her lying raped, beaten, and dead at the hands of men that were monsters that drove his resolve more than anything and he had taken her to Volterra that night to become part of his family with the intention of keeping her safe by his side for all eternity.

Even though she had not said that she loved ihim/i he could not imagine a world where she did not exist.


	15. Chapter 15

He was left alone for several days after the incident in the counsel room. Not even Aro bothered him. It was hours before he moved from his fetal position at the corner of he bed and even then it was not much of a movement, he simply uncurled his fingers from his long locks, rested his head back against the footboard and sat there, knees drawn to his chest, arms stretched out, resting on his knees. As he sat there with his head bowed as he tried to clear his thoughts, to get the images of his wife's dead body out of his mind. It hadn't been her.

_Didyme_.

In his mind he knew that the girl that he had killed hadn't been her, but his heart did not understand that yet. Even if it was a dead chamber that no longer beat in his chest, his heart, rather than feeling like stone, felt like it was made of spun glass that was shattered into million pieces.

A day had actually passed before he moved again. Without much thought, he went to his wardrobe and pulled out some fresh clothing. The stench of the girl's dried blood was still on his clothes and without a second thought he tossed the sullied articles into the hearth where there was always a fire cheerfully burning. It was the only cheerful thing about the room.

Once he was dress and back to his dignified, if bored posture, he stepped to his window and onto the ledge. After centuries of doing this he didn't have to think as he stepped out into the cold night air, the wind brushing against his cold skin as he floated to a nearby roof and landed as softly as a feline.

Once on the roof of a nearby building, he leapt without thought onto the next roof, and then the next, putting some distance between him and the old, if modernized structure that his coven had called home for so long.

He had no idea how much time had passed since he had retreated from the counsel chamber to his room after the incident with the girl. It could have been hours or days, not that it really mattered, time no longer really held any importance for him. If he had stopped counting the years, decades, and centuries since his wife had left him, what did the hours and days really matter?

As he raced through the night, eventually leaving Volterra behind him, he stayed to the rural areas as much as possible, feeding on some poor vagabond along the way without really noticing whether the figure was that of a male or female or how old or young they were.

Eventually he reached the outskirts of Rome, the city lit up like a field of stars in the distance. He was in the same field of wild flowers that he and his wife had come to that first night. It had been easy enough to protect the area from development, after all, he had unlimited wealth at his disposal. Of course, it also didn't hurt that the area was considered haunted.

The rumor of spirits haunting the space had been around for centuries, over two millennia really, ever since the night when a sculpture of a beautiful woman with an impish smile had appeared in the middle of the field from one day to the next.

Over the centuries the statue had been taken care of, dirt and vines being cleared away, the cold marble polished, but no one ever saw who cared for the image of the beautiful woman. The statue was a mystery to the people of the area. All it said at the base was "Didyme." Since there were several women that had had some sort of political power through the ages with the name, scholars who had snuck onto the private property could not figure out who the statue represented.

Whenever they had made speculations they had gotten it wrong. Marcus did not bother to correct them, and he had prevented several cultural entities from removing the statue. Many had wanted to lock it up in a museum or private collection in order to "preserve it." They didn't realize that it was safer where it was than anywhere else.

Once the statue had been stolen, but it had been taken back as soon as it appeared in a museum in Madrid a year later. Overnight the statue had been returned to the field and the bodies of those responsible had been found strewn around the statue like fallen leaves.

No one had dared to move the statue since.

Walking into the field now, Marcus approached the statue and sat near the base of it, staring up at the perfect face immortalized in stone as it smiled down on him. He came here when he could and just stared at it.

_Didyme_.

He remembered when he had carved the piece. It had taken him impossibly long, the sketching sessions where she had sat for him had inevitably ended up with lovemaking sessions that lasted for hours and after he had finally developed enough self-discipline to get through the sketching and move on to the actually carving and chiseling work, he had been so distracted by carving her perfect form that his thoughts would always turn to holding her in his arms again and bringing them both pleasure, so he would abandon his work and go in search of her.

He almost smiled at the memory, but not quite.

He barely felt the tall wild flowers brushing against him as he continued to sit there, staring. This likeness, even more than that of the painting, almost made him feel as if she were standing there in front of him, _almost_, but not quite.

The features were the same, the graceful way that she carried herself, but the eyes were cold, blank, empty, and the hair, well, there was no way that that could even be compared.

He remembered the night when he had made that fateful decision to turn her skin to the same cold, hard, stone like texture that was so similar to the piece of art in front of him it would have been eerie to anyone else, but he knew this figure would not react to his touch the way she had.

Without much thought he stood up and was up on the pedestal carved into the base of the statue and his arms wrapped around her. No, the figure could not react, but he could pretend, if only for a moment, that he was holding his living statue in his arms.

_Didyme_.

After a moment he whispered in the unhearing ear, "I'm so sorry."


	16. Chapter 16

The night her life had been put in danger because her gift had gotten her embroiled in the bloody political arena that was ancient Rome, he had taken her away in the middle of the night.

He had not understood how she could sleep while he worried about the assassins that were probably on their way to silence her. Even the old men who were her fellow priests were up, restlessly discussing her fate, concerned for the first time that her divine gift had gotten her into trouble that they could not get her out of.

From watching, he knew her to be a sound sleeper, but even he had smiled at the fact that she barely stirred when he stole her away from the temple she had called home since she was a child. He didn't give a thought to any possessions she might want to take with her; he could provide her with whatever she needed, or come back and steal away anything that held sentimental value if she so wished.

He found it strange that she slept so peacefully in his arms as he carried her to their field. Sitting there, he waited a while then he gently woke her with a kiss, wishing he could increase the intensity of it, but knowing that that was not possible, at least it hadn't been yet.

When she had moved her lips against his and woke with a sleepy smile, she didn't seem surprised that she was in his arms and no longer in her small room at the back of the temple. Instead she had cuddled into him and whispered, "Marcus."

Whenever she had said his name, it was like a prayer.

She had yawned a bit, nuzzling his neck as she rested her head on his shoulder, still half-asleep. "Am I dreaming?"

He whispered, "No, fair one."

It was the seriousness of his tone that caused her to raise her head and look at him in concern. "What? What is it?"

With a frown he had sighed, "You got in trouble today, Didyme?"

Instead of seeming contrite she had actually giggled at his words which only caused him to scowl, though his look of annoyance quickly turned to on of confusion when she whispered. "I knew it would be tonight. I just didn't know what the catalyst would be to set it into motion."

He had tried to make sense of her words on his own, but nothing he had said made any sense at all. Tonight would be the night for what? What had been set into motion exactly? Before he could ask, she continued, her midnight blue eyes locked with his crimson ones.

She gave him a soft smile as she spoke and her hand reached up to delicately caress his face. "I've never really told you how my gift works, have I? No, of course not. You see, my darling, it's like…the tale of the Sisters Fate. One spins, one measures, one cuts. I can't describe it, but it's as if I can see that thread. Of course some people's threads are clearer than others, but rarely do they change, the way yours did…the way mine will."

He had sat there, still as a statue, no longer breathing as what she was trying to tell him became clearer.

His voice was strangely emotionless, almost cold as he finally had the presence of mind to speak again. "You knew. You knew from that very first night what I was and that I would change you."

She had looked at him curiously when she noticed his tone and had simply said, "Yes."

It seemed to have taken every ounce of patience he had to remove her from his lap and control the anger that he felt building inside. He had wondered if that was what she wanted all along from him. She didn't want him; she wanted to be what he was. She wanted immortality.

She had been able to sense the change in him and her pulse had increased as she whispered, "W…what's wrong, Marcus?"

He was angry, that much had been apparent, but he was angry at himself for falling for her when she wanted nothing from him but to be turned. "Shall I do it now and leave you?" It had pained him to say the words. He wasn't even taking into consideration the fact that it was not their way to create newborns and abandoned them; what hurt him was the idea of leaving her at all.

Scrambling to her feet she had clutched at his arm, and for the first time he saw panic in her features. He had wondered if her fear stemmed from the fact that she thought he wouldn't go through with it, but truth of the matter was, no matter how much it hurt him, he would give her whatever she wanted.

The panic spilled over from her expression into her voice as she whispered, "Leave me? Why?! Why would you leave me? I love you."

It was strange how those three little words had wiped away his anger so completely and he grinned brightly, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "Do you?"

It had been her turn to look upset then and she frowned and shoved at him lightly. "Of course I do! What is wrong with you?!" Then it sounded like curse words in a language he had never heard.

He had never seen her angry before and he enjoyed it, but not as much as the fact that she loved him.

"I love you, too, Didyme."

She had stopped then and smiled impishly at him. "Good."

He whispered, "You know that if this happens it means forever."

Her smile had faltered a bit, and he wondered if she had doubts about that, but then she whispered, "I want to be with you always." He did not realize at the time that her faltering smile and her carefully worded reply had to do with the fact that she knew that there would be no forever for them. She had said that she _wanted_ to be with him always, not that she would.

He had not noticed the subtle distinction.

He had been lulled into thinking that she would be turned and would be safe. He had not known to watch out for her, to care for her because there was the possibility that he might lose her.

He had not stopped apologizing to her long dead spirit for a millennium for the fact that he had failed her even if she had known the truth all along.


	17. Chapter 17

Months after the visit from Edward and Bella and the incident in the counsel room things had returned to some semblance of normalcy. In other words, he thought of Didyme all the time, but the memories did not make him feel as desperately unhappy as they had. Instead, the pain had become a dull ache that was always there at the very core of him. He knew from experience that it would never go away, but he had a better handle on it.

He wasn't even that bothered when Aro brought up the Cullens, and more specifically, Edward and Bella again at one of their many meetings where matters of the immortal world were discussed. It seemed that there was some trouble in the area in which the Cullen Coven lived, newborns seemingly out of control on a killing spree.

When the human media began to pick up on the stories they all knew it was time to get involved, but of course with Aro's plotting and Caius' need to tip the scales of power more in their direction by trying to avenge imaginary injustices, it was never that easy.

As they argued behind him, again, trying to decide how and when to intervene, it was Caius' plan that caught some of his attention. The usual annoyed, angry tone was in his brother's voice as Caius responded to Aro's theory that the newborns might pose a problem to the Cullens. "And if they do? What of it? Two problems will be taken care of at once: the number of newborns will be reduced by the Cullens…and the number Cullens will be reduced by the newborns."

He turned his head to listen to Aro's response. His brother's voice was thoughtful as he spoke, "Carlisle was a good friend and ally and the gifts that his Edward and Alice have..." Aro's voice had drifted off to wistful envy towards the end of his words ad he was silent a few moments before he continued again, "But, Carlisle coven has grown too large, too powerful."

Neither of them bothered to ask his opinion, not that he was really sure that he had one on this matter. He did not need his mind to drift in the direction of this Edward and Bella again, it brought up to many harsh memories and feelings that he did not need to dwell on again.

He barely listened as it was decided that they would send a group consisting of guard members headed by Jane to take care of the problem, but they would wait and just let the group take care of what the Cullens left behind. If some of the Cullens were lost, so be it.

Marcus left soon after this was decided, though when they did ask his opinion he said that the newborns were their responsibility, not the Cullens, and they should take care of the problem. In addition to it being the honest truth, in the back of his mind he did think of Edward and his Bella and he was still torn. On the one hand, the selfish part of him wanted someone to experience the same amount of anguish that he had. Why should he be the only one to suffer in a hell worse than any that had ever been imagined?

Then again, why shouldn't someone somewhere experience the happiness that had gotten away from him? He and Didyme had had their chance, however short it seemed to him. The time that this mortal and vampire had been together was even shorter than the time he had had his wife.

_Didyme_.

Leaving Aro and Caius to iron out the details he made his way to his chambers and despite himself, he let his mind wander, thinking more on Edward and Bella. He wondered if the boy had gone through with his promise to change the girl. Were they now happy together in immortality?

Of course if he had the beginning of her immortal life had probably been anything but happy for either of them.

The most painful incident of his life had been losing his wife, but the second most painful had been watching how she suffered during her transformation. The pain he felt as she writhed and screamed in his arms for three days were worse than when he had felt the fires of immortality burning away at his own humanity. He had hated himself for putting her through that.

Aro had urged him to change the girl long before his hand had been forced by her inadvertent fall into the world of assassinations and politics. Caius had been blunter and told him to change her or kill her.

The night he had stolen her away from Rome, he had taken her to Volterra. As he flew, running through the night towards his coven's home, his heart was flying as well with the realization that she not only loved him, but was prepared to spend forever with him. He was so caught up in the happiness of these thoughts that he didn't have the presence of mind to think ahead to the suffering she would endure at his hands in just a short time.

When he reached Volterra with her in his arms, his brothers already having warned the other members of the small guard that they kept at the time about Didyme's eminent arrival, he had gone straight to the rooms that he kept. At the time there was no bed, no hint of it being a living space at all, it had been nothing more than a studio where he dabbled in sculpting, painting, and other artistic and scientific pursuits to occupy his time.

She was fascinated by everything she saw from the moment they had entered the tower, which at the time was the biggest building in Volterra. He did not set her down though, not until he had reached his rooms.

Once there she had wandered about, touching things, looking at his work. No one came into these rooms, not even his brothers, but he did not mind as she seemed to examine everything. Turning to look at him with a smile she whispered, "Seeing all this tells me so much about you, things I already suspected, but never knew for sure."

He had only smiled in return and then before she could blink he was across the room and had her in his arms. Smiling he had whispered, "This is your home now."

She had smiled brightly at that and whispered, "I am yours."

It was then, without much thought, that the overwhelming urge to make her his had taken precedent over everything else and he had nuzzled her neck.

It was obvious that she had not expected the sudden pain as he let his teeth sink into her neck, but her gasp was drown out by the moan of pleasure that escaped from the back of his throat as her sweet blood filled his mouth for the first time.

Though it had seemed impossible to stop, he had licked the wound, sealing it shut and then, spurred on by the thought of having her forever he had left several bite wounds in strategic places on her body so the venom could spread.

He did not think of the pain to come until she had started to whimper then scream as the fire started to spread. How? How had he forgotten about the pain?

But, she had not been in pain alone. Every time that she screamed, begging him to make it stop, to kill her, to do anything, it was as if the flames of the fire were reaching out to envelope him as well, but he couldn't do anything more than hold her close as she suffered for him and for the love that they shared. At the time he had only hoped that she loved him enough to forgive him for what he had put her through.


	18. Chapter 18

When Jane returned from her trip to take care of the newborn problem in Seattle, he listened to her report without much interest. The only part that really caught his attention was when she mentioned the fact that Bella was still human.

Interesting, not surprising, but interesting.

He knew from what Aro had said about the boy's thoughts that he was reluctant and apparently Edward _was_ biding his time. He did not blame the boy for putting it off. In the end it would be one of the most difficult things he'd ever done, not because of the outcome, but because of the process itself.

The fire of transformation was a difficult thing for everyone that went through it, but he didn't realize that watching the way Didyme suffered would be worse than his own transformation. For a few brief moments he actually pondered ending the suffering by taking her life, but in the end the desire to keep her forever at his side was just too great and he had simply held her as she went through her change.

Yes, the pain had been great, but the reward had been greater. She had become his everything.

Entering his chambers he looked around and marveled at how much the room had changed from that day long ago when she had begun her transformation. Then it had been a studio dedicated to his various artistic and scientific pursuits. He had never given much credence to the age old adage that every living space needed a woman's touch, but she had begun to change his chambers little by little till it was a completely different space than the one she had first laid eyes on. And, even after all the time that had passed since she had passed on, he had never had the faintest desire to change it back.

Moving to his desk located at one corner of the room, the only work space in their bedchamber left, he pulled out a yellowed piece of parchment from the drawer along with a small bit of charcoal. Without much thought he started to let the sharpened black lump start to skim across the surface of the aged paper, his body hunched over the image he was creating.

It was some time later when he finally straightened up and looked at his creation. There she was, straight from his memory. There was a representation of her dancing eyes, delicate features, and impish smile. But, it wasn't enough.

He let his finger gently run along the line of her cheekbone and then along her full lips. It was only after a few more moments of letting his fingers caress the image in front of him that he let out a sigh that seemed to come from a deep place of utter despair that was buried within him.

When he was finally able to drag his clouded crimson eyes from the image he rested his elbows on the desk and let his face fall into his hands as his mind drifted back to the first days of his wife's immortal life.

_Didyme_.

Like any newborn she had hungered for blood and he had tried to satisfy that need by allowing her unfettered access to several slave caravans that he had led her to. No one ever missed it if the slave traders that brought their captives from the barbarian lands never arrived.

He had not been surprised in the least by her hunger for blood, what had surprised him was her hunger for him. When she had been unable to drink anymore she had turned to him and attacked him in a much different fashion from the way she had her victims.

It had been strange at first, being able to hold her, caress her, and kiss her without fear of breaking her and killing her. In fact more than a few times she had gotten so carried away that he was the one left in pain from their intimate encounters.

He remembered lying with her on the cold, stone floor of his chambers after one such encounter and as he had tried to get his breathing under control he had winced a bit. He had forgotten what it was like to be sore, not having experienced such a feeling since his human years, but the physical strength of a newborn combined with the strength of his wife's desire for him was a rather new experience.

It was as if she could not get enough of him and he could not get enough of her either, but she was a bit too strong for him and he was reluctant to let her know that since they were both so happy. He could deal with the discomfort caused by her moments of unrestrained strength. The passion between them was well worth it.

Curled up against his side she had kissed and nuzzled his neck with a sigh which had turned his wince into a smile. He sighed and moaned himself when had felt her hands moving along his skin and he cold only laugh when she sighed again against his ear and had whispered, "I'm hungry."

With the laughter in his voice he had turned to her and whispered, "For what, blood or me?" The laughter had become even louder when he saw her expression and it became apparent that she wasn't really sure. He had kissed her softly and smiled against her lips, "Perhaps both, yes?"

She had giggled at his words and pressed against him, "Yes, both." She seemed so happy that he could only laugh again and whisper, "My wife is insatiable." In response she had only given him the same mischievous smile that always seemed to be turning up the corner of her lips and a twinkle had entered her eyes.

The same smile and look in her eyes that he had just sketched out.

He fingered the sketch once again and then his long fingers curled over the parchment, grasping at it, crumpling the drawing as the sound of the crinkling paper filled the room. The drawing was no comparison to the real thing or even to his memory.

Moving to the hearth he threw the wadded up parchment into the flames within and watched as it curled up as the fire licked at it and slowly turned to ash.

Did this Edward know what he was missing out on by denying the desire to turn his Bella? Did he know that he was missing out on the possibility of eternity with the one that was his true other half?

He would change the girl.

Selfishly he had had thoughts over the last few months hoping that Edward would lose Bella so he could suffer. It was part of the reason that he had initially agreed with Aro that Edward should be kept alive when the boy had come to them, asking for them to end his suffering when he thought the girl was dead. Wasn't it only fair that someone suffer like he had been for so long now?

But, now, as his wife was more and more on his mind, he decided that he wanted to preserve that bond that was as strong as the one that he had shared with her.

_Didyme_.

No, such a bond should not be destroyed.

He would do what little he could among his coven to help them, but the rest was up to them.


	19. Chapter 19

For sometime there was no real need for his intervention. Edward and Bella were not mentioned and he slipped into his usual habit of sitting in on meetings with his brother only half listening to what they said and giving input only when they insisted on it, which was rarely ever.

He sat there, letting his mind wander as it usually did to the days when his wife had been alive.

When Edward and Bella finally were mentioned it was only at Caius' insistence that they needed to follow up on whether or not the terms of their release had been completed. Aro ignored these reminders at first, saying that there was time, but as Caius continued to bring it up he seemed to be closer to agreeing.

Marcus was certain that the next time that Caius brought up the couple that Aro was going to agree that someone should go check on them, and if it so happened that the girl had not been changed there would be consequences. He was already thinking on how he would intervene in order to stop this from happening when an unexpected correspondence arrived negating the fact that he needed to get involved just yet.

The engraved invitation arrived some days after the actually wedding took place, but it seemed that Edward and Bella had decided to have a mortal ceremony to tie themselves to one another. How strange. He had never had an actual wedding ceremony with his own wife, but things had been different then and some cultures merely required that a man and woman live together for them to be considered man and wife.

Didyme had never doubted his commitment to her and he in turn had never doubted what she felt for him or what their relationship was.

Had she _wanted_ such a ceremony? How strange that in all their centuries together he had never thought to ask.

As his brothers discussed what the significance behind the invitation since it had come _after_ the fact and they were obviously not true invitees, he let his mind wander again. He had a sudden image in his mind of his wife in a modern day white satin gown with a veil resting over her flaming red locks.

_Didyme_.

The image only lasted for a moment in his mind before he pushed it away. What was wrong with him? He was no longer just imagining her the way she had been, but picturing her in situations that would never occur.

He tried to stop these thoughts from continuing by paying attention to what Aro and Caius were arguing about now. Apparently Aro thought it would be a good idea to send the new bride a gift. Of course Caius thought this was a horrible idea and refused to participate in what he called a "farce of acceptance."

Aro had turned to him and asked, "Will you send the lovely Bella a gift, Marcus?" Before he could answer, Aro continued, "I believe that Queen Edith's Sphere will make a lovely gift for our Bella." Despite Caius' sharp intake of breath, Aro kept going. "She had a unique beauty about here and the diamond will compliment her newfound immortal beauty."

Marcus understood Caius' reaction to the gift Aro was suggesting. Historians claimed that John of England had lost the crowned jewels while traveling through The Wash on the east coast of England in 1216. The truth of the matter was that the king had never been good in terms of finances and the Volturi Coven had been more than happy to get their hands on the jewels at what was a bargain rate at the time. Some of the pieces had gone to their wives. His own wife's favorite piece had been a gold ruby incrusted cuff bracelet but, to please him she had frequently worn the sapphire necklace that he said matched the color her human eyes had been.

He knew that Queen Edith's Sphere, as the necklace Aro was speaking of was called, was very valuable. It was probably one of the most expensive pieces of the whole collection that they had acquired. At the time it had been considered nearly priceless, now it was worth more than the whole worth of some small countries.

He knew why Aro had picked the necklace for the girl. He was courting her as surely as a suitor would. Aro wanted Bella, Edward, and Alice to be part of their guard. He was especially intrigued by Bella's potential once she was turned, if she hadn't already been. Ever since Bella kept Aro out of her mind he had been intrigued. Aro also knew that if he could get Bella on his side Edward, and possibly Alice, would follow.

He believed it to be a futile effort, but he did not voice this opinion. What was the point? Aro was going to do what Aro wanted to do.

His thoughts were interrupted again as Aro spoke directly to him, "Caius is against gift giving, Marcus. Will you send something to the lovely bride?"

He merely nodded in response and turned away again to look out the window as Caius scowled and Aro grinned brightly and exclaimed, "Excellent! Bring it by the council chambers before the evening meal, yes?"

Again he only nodded in response and sensing that his presence was no longer necessary he made his way out of the room and headed to his chambers. Once he closed the chamber doors behind him he made his way to his wife's wardrobe after glance briefly at her portrait.

Opening the large, heavy, intricately carved doors he ignored the protesting squeal from the hinges and looked to the top shelf of the wardrobe above her dresses. There were several boxes there and he just stared at them a moment.

He knew from memory what each box held. There was the box carved of ivory that held her bracelets and arm cuffs, the ebony box with onyx stones that held her various hair pins and combs, the red jade box that held her necklaces…His eyes just continued to scan the various boxes but they kept drifting back to the box at the very center of them all.

It was a beautiful box of ancient wood that had once been part of the hull of a Viking ship. It was ornately carved with symbols from humans that his wife had been descended from before she had become a slave, then a priestess, and finally a vampire and his wife. The artistic work of the carving was offset by gold and mother of pearl inlays and a variety of precious and semi-precious stones ranging from lipase to emeralds.

Taking the ancient box delicately into his hands he moved to sit at the foot of his bed and he ran his long white fingers over the surface. He remembered when he had had this box made for her.

_Didyme_.

Opening the box carefully he looked at the different mementos she had kept within.


	20. Chapter 20

He never understood then things that she kept in the box. Honestly they were things of no great value to anyone and though he had tried to interpret the meaning behind some of the things within, he never could understand why some of the items held significance for her.

There was the small bit of ribbon, faded and threadbare after so many centuries. He remembered that the ribbon had once been a shade of midnight blue, but now it was a washed up shade of grey. It was the ribbon that had been intertwined throughout her fire colored locks the night that they had met.

There was a leaf, carefully wrapped in a piece of cloth, which by some miracle hadn't crumbled and turned to dust over the years. When had she gathered that and why had she saved it? He wished he knew. This along with the small polished rock, the small length of rope, and small piece of human bone were things that would always remain a mystery to him.

The final item in the box was a small leather pouch that held a small bit of ash. Taking it between his fingers he remembered when she had started to wear it…and the ashes of the individual held within.

They had lived happily together for some time. It had taken them both some time to learn to balance their hunger, duties to the coven, and their physical relationship, but they had been able to find a way to do it in the end. They had settled into a routine of sorts. He spent time with his brothers working on keeping their world in some semblance of balance, but most of his time was spent with her. During the day she helped him with his artistic pursuits, and in the evenings, after feeding, they spent time in each other's arms with very little words passing between them.

He still remembered the first time that Aro brought Juvenal to the tower. The boy couldn't have been more than four. He had to be the most beautiful child that any of them had seen with his head of thick black curls, pale immortal skin over full dimpled cheeks, and cupid-bow lips. The only thing that was slightly off was the bright red crimson color that tainted his eyes.

Caius was resentful of having the child around them at all, therefore his mate, Athenadora, ignored the boy in an effort to appease her husband. Aro had brought the child to their coven as an experiment, something to add to their "histories" as he liked to call them. From the start Sulpicia took no interest in caring for the boy, but the same did not hold true for his mate.

_Didyme_.

She had seen the boy and had immediately agreed that she would be responsible for the boy when he was not with Aro or a trusted member of the guard. Although he had had misgivings about the arrangement, Marcus never could deny her anything and so he had let her form a bond with the vampire child.

She would chase him around the tower or out in the gardens when the skies were most cloudy. While Aro studied them and Caius resented their growing closeness, he found their laughter and interaction soothing. As he watched her play and laugh with Juvenal, for the first time he thought about what she might have sacrificed to be with him. He was rather surprised that after so much time together he had not asked many questions about her human life or her human hopes and dreams. Had she wanted a family? Had she thought about a future with a mortal mate and mortal children?

Chances were that she probably had. After all, there was no way she could have imagined life as an immortal, though she seemed to have known some things when they first met.

A month after Juvenal's arrival as they lay holding each other right before dawn he nuzzled her cheek and whispered in her ear, "Didyme, love?"

He could feel the smile on her lips as she buried her face into the crook of his neck with an answering, "Hmmm?"

He felt his breath stir the strands of hair near her ear as he continued. "Do you have any regrets about your life with me?"

She had lifted her face away from his face with a strange look. "Marcus, never! Never ever. Why would you ask such a thing?"

He brushed her fiery curls away from her face, taking a moment to admire the way they spread out like a wild flaming halo around her head. When it wasn't brushed to perfection it was as out of control as the tangled mane of a wild horse and he loved it that way.

Breaking his thoughts away from her physical perfection he whispered his answer. "I see you with Juvenal and I can't help but wonder if you regret not living a mortal life and all that comes with that, growing old, children…"

Her response had been a smile as she reached up to gently caress his cheek. "I knew that I was meant for a different kind of life for a long time, my heart. Do you remember what I called you on our first meeting? My little death."

If he had still been capable of blushing he might have. He remembered her calling him that very well, and he remembered how he'd interpreted it.

She laughed, and as if reading his mind she let her hand wander. "No, love, I didn't mean that at the time, though you've come to fulfill the role you thought of casting yourself in at that moment _very_ well."

He stifled a groan, trying not to let his mind wander to carnal thoughts as she let her hands run along his pale skin. No, he didn't let himself be distracted. "Didyme, love, I know your gift. Did you know you would have a life like this? A life that is not really life, but that is not death?"

She nodded, "I knew that very well. I knew that the normal life with children, a family, those things were not for me, but honestly I didn't know how rich and fulfilling my life with you would be. You have become my everything."

The smile that lit up his face made her smile in return and he'd drawn her close and kissed her. No, he could not get enough of her. Eternity was not enough.

Sometime later when the sun was shining through the window, setting their pale skin shimmering like cascading diamonds he had enough presence of mind to bring up his concerns about the vampire child that she was becoming so close to.

"Didyme, my love, take care with Juvenal. You know Aro, but not as well as I do. There is no telling what his intentions in this matter…"

Before he could continue she quieted him with a finger to his lips and whispered softly. "My heart, I know…"


	21. Chapter 21

It had been easy to see why Didyme and several members of the guard had become attached to Juvenal. It was as if the vampire blood had increased the natural instincts that most of those around him had to protect children from harm. There were only a few that remained unaffected. Caius and Athenadora avoided the boy and therefore did not become attached. Aro merely wanted to study the boy and that was the only interest that Juvenal held for him. Sulpicia had always been a bit of a vain, self-centered creature so he was not surprised to see that she didn't take a passing interest in the boy.

As for Marcus himself, he was happy as long as Didyme was happy, though the lingering concern stayed at the back of his mind as he watched her mothering the boy. Yes, due to her gift she might know when death was coming for Juvenal, watching Aro this was obviously an unavoidable inevitability, but was she truly prepared?

Just because one knew that death was a given did not mean that one was necessarily prepared for it. He wondered if anyone truly could be prepared for losing someone that they loved. He couldn't imagine having to prepare himself for such a thing. Wasn't it one of the things that had driven him to turn Didyme into a vampire? The thought of losing her forever had been too much to bear.

But, yes, it was apparent that Juvenal's demise was inevitable. The boy might be coddled and loved by his wife and members of the guard, but even they could see how the boy had no self control or restraint when it came to the hunger that plagued their kind. This had first become apparent during the early days of his stay.

They had always kept a number of humans around to assist with mundane things such as the day to day operations of the coven and guard. No vampire wanted to spend eternity in the drudgery of everyday chores such as cleaning and making clothes. These mortals were also necessary to keep up appearances to the outside world at times. He and his brothers knew that these humans merely stayed on with them, knowing what they were, in the hopes that they too would be invited into a life of unaging immortality.

One day not long after his arrival, Juvenal had become separated from the immortal charged to watch him when Didyme could not be at his side. It was only a short time after this separation that they began to find the bodies of their workers strewn throughout the recesses of the tower. Although Aro, Didyme, and all the others who had contact with the boy had tried to teach him the necessity of exercising restraint, he obviously did not seem to understand the concept.

Aro pointed out that children, mortal or immortal, regularly ignored rules and did not restrain themselves, taking what they wanted. The all important question was whether or not he could learn to control his desire for blood. During meetings with his brothers, Marcus insisted that it was a _possibility_, but he knew he was being optimistic because of Didyme's attachment to the boy. Caius, as always, was the pessimist that wanted to put an end to this little study as soon as possible.

As time passed and it became more and more apparent that the boy could not develop further, he exercised no thought or restraint and just exercised the need to feed the never ending hunger. He did not understand that there would be consequences to his lack of self-control.

One day while Aro was busy writing his "histories" Marcus made his way into the library and watched him quietly before speaking. "How much longer, Aro?"

Aro looked up from the parchment on which he was writing and gave him his inevitable smile. "How much longer for what, Marcus?"

He frowned, not liking when Aro tried to be coy. "Come now, brother, you know what I am speaking of. How much longer do you intend to keep this…study of Juvenal up? You have discussed bringing other vampire children into the fold to see if they might be able to learn what the boy apparently has not. I know you do not intend to keep the boy once you do that and I am absolutely certain that you have no intention of letting him go where he could expose us by reeking havoc among mortal populations. How much longer do you intend to keep the boy alive?"

Aro had put down his quill and leaned back in his chair as he templed his fingers under his chin. That ever present smile was on his lips, though Marcus sensed the rancor behind his words. "Why don't you ask your wife? She is the expert in terms of these things, is she not?"

Marcus had always known that Aro resented Didyme's gift. He saw it as interference to the decisions they made. After all, if Didyme knew before hand who would live, who would die, and who would be turned, then where did their power as decision makers come into play?

Glaring at his brother, Marcus' voice was cold, "Because, I am asking you."

Aro chuckled softly at this and simply picked up his quill and dipped it in an inkwell to write again, without looking at him he simply replied, "Soon."

Though that was not a clear answer, he knew when the time had drawn closer by the way that Didyme began to act in regards to the boy. She no longer spent time away from Juvenal and inevitably when he returned to their room at night he would find her there with the boy. He did not mind this, after all, who was he to interfere?

One day when Didyme was particularly anxious, he knew that it was time.

As they gathered in the council chambers he saw a cruel satisfaction in Caius' gaze and that cruel tinged smile on Aro's lips.

It was time.

He saw the turmoil on the faces of the guard members who had become attached to the boy as he was torn from Didyme's grasp. Didyme relinquished the boy after taking one step forward, her arms outstretched as if she had wanted to take him back. He still wasn't sure if she would have fought had he not held onto her, preventing her from moving fully forward.

At first the child did not seem to understand what was going on, but then as he was surrounded by members of the guard and his terrified wails filled the room he could tell by studying the faces around him that it was not only his wife who wanted to intervene. The only faces that seemed unaffected by Juvenal's childish cries of fear were Caius' and Aro's. Caius had this sadistic smile across his lips and Aro's features held no emotion, but his eyes held a cruelty that Marcus had only seen on a few occasions. When he turned that cruel gaze Didyme's way he seemed to take satisfaction in her pain and for the first time Marcus felt hate towards his brother.

As they threw the small limbs into the waiting fire in the hearth and the smell of burning vampire flesh filled the room he had to hold Didyme back. It was as if she had wanted to jump right in after the boy. As he held her struggling, sobbing form in his arms, he felt fear for the first time that he still might lose her. They were immortal, but death, true death, still could touch them.

She had finally stopped struggling after the flames had started to die down. He knew she was under some semblance of control when she had stroked the arm around her waist that had served to restrain her and she had whispered, "It's all right, my love. Let me go."

He had released her, though the fear and concern made it difficult for him to do so. He stood by and watched silently as she took a small pouch from a pocket of her dress and leaned over the hearth to gather some of the ashes of the vampire child she had come to regard as a son.

Sitting at the edge of the bed he weighed the small bag of ashes in his hand. He remembered how she would pull this leather pouch out and hold it. It had been a comfort to her for some reason.

Unfortunately he had no such memento from her death.


	22. Chapter 22

**Well, there seems to be less and less interest in this story rather than growing interest. I fully intend to continue the story, but since I'm not getting as many comments, and therefore I assume I'm losing readers, the postings/installments are taken a bit more time to create. So please, feel free to leave comments, good or bad, and let me know what you really think.****Damsell**

He took the contents of the box, the ribbon, leaf, rock, bit of rope, bone, and of course the ashes, and put them in one of the other boxes at the top of her wardrobe. He ran his hands over the bejeweled surface of the box once again and let out a deep, heavy sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.

Why was he doing this? Why was he giving this bit of her up to a girl he hardly knew? He knew that the box was worth a small fortune, priceless really. It was nearly worth as much as the necklace that Aro intended to gift the girl.

He knew why Aro was giving the gift to the girl. It was part warning, part bribe. He was warning the girl that he was still watching, waiting, and he wanted to show her just how generous he could be if she became part of their guard.

He doubted it would work.

He was hoping it wouldn't.

When he gave the box to Aro, his brother barely glanced at the box as he placed Queen Edith's Sphere, a rather beautiful, if ostentatious necklace, inside along with his note to Bella. He looked to Marcus with his ever present smile.

"Will you include a note to our Bella, brother?"

Marcus simply shook his head and drifted from the room again. No, he would not include a note. What was there to say? He still hadn't truly figured out why he was sending the box. Perhaps it was his silent way of showing his support, though of course Bella and Edward would have no earthly way of knowing that was what he was doing.

Strangely enough, he didn't see the girl, whether she was still mortal or already turned, using the necklace; some women didn't not like such extravagance. Didyme had been like that.

_Didyme_.

He still remembered that as fashions had changed from the loose fitting folds of draping fabric that had been preferred by the Romans to more grandiose designs of later time periods. She had found these fashions to be too constricting and had continued to prefer her own mode of dressing.

He had found her to be a breath of fresh air to their coven after the way Sulpicia and Athenadora acted, insisting on a lavish lifestyle where they had the latest in styles and jewels. She had been her own person. She wanted to be comfortable and wore gowns in the Roman fashion for centuries after others had begun to view it as a style that was limited to statues and other representations of the time.

He had loved the way the darker, jewel colored tones she preferred looked against her skin. The sapphire blues, emerald greens, deep ruby red, and other fabric colors that she preferred were a perfect match for her personality.

After Juvenal's death those colors had disappeared and she had preferred to wear the colors she had worn as a priestess of death. He had found her as lovely as she had then in the midnight blue and black tones, but it worried him.

Worry had not been part of his life for so long up until that point that the emotion had caught him off-guard. The last time he had truly worried about anything was when she had been mortal and the period following Juvenal's death had come centuries after that point.

Worry. Was that what he was feeling now? Was he worried for this Edward and Bella?

How strange.

Since these two had come into his coven's life he had been through such a wide-variety of emotions that he had felt adrift. Was the bond between Edward and Bella so strong, so similar to his own with his wife that he had to help preserve it?

Yes. Yes, it was.

Passing by a window in the corridor he was walking down, he noticed that it was night time. How strange to think that he had once marked the passing of time by something as mundane and short as the rising and setting of the sun.

He took the corridor that led away from his chambers and headed in the direction of the stairs that led out into the walled up gardens behind the Tower. As he roamed among the perfectly manicured shrubs and meticulously pruned rose bushes he looked towards the sky.

The sky was such a rare sight now at days; then again, he and his brothers rarely left their dwelling and as far as he knew their wives had not step foot outside in a millennia. He had left to go to his and Didyme's field, but he had simply looked at her statue and not looked at the world around him. How unobservant he'd become.

Making his way to the center of the garden he moved to look at the way the moon reflected off the still water of a pool there. As he drew closer for a moment he thought that Aro had come up behind him, but no, the long, flowing, ebony hair, chiseled, cold features covered in papery thin skin, and clouded crimson eyes staring back at him were his own.

How long had it been since he had truly taken in his reflection?

Sure he glanced in the polished metal above Didyme's vanity table now and then, but the warped reflection provided by the old piece didn't provided nearly the same level of clarity that the darkened pool of water before him had.

When had he become this creature that looked so...inhuman?

He shouldn't have been surprised by his appearance; after all, his brothers and their wives had changed in a similar manner. Perhaps the difference lay in the fact that he did not care about the way the looked, and in his mind he would always look the same way he had when Didyme was alive.

Now, she would hardly recognize him.

He had aged after all.

Oh, it wasn't as if he had aged in the mortal way. There would never be wrinkles or grey hairs. Age would not start to turn his body against him by making it more brittle and weak. No, he had changed in a much different manner. Age was robbing him of the last remnants of his human visage.

Sitting down next to the pool he continued to study his new reflection in the same manner that Aro concentrated on and studied his histories.

As he continued to examine his image he wondered if he had changed as much inside as he had in the outside. It was true that vampires rarely changed. Aro had gone on and on about this fact when he talked about his studies and though these long winded "discussions" in which no one else participated held little interest to him, he _had_ listened.

Love. Love could change a vampire. Aro had described it as an irreparable trauma to the soul, comparing it to the brain injury that some humans sustained that changed aspects of their personalities and behaviors.

He briefly wondered if Edward had been different before he had met his Bella. But, of course, he probably had been. Hadn't he been different before he had met his wife?

_Didyme_.

Loss. Loss could also change a vampire. This was a phenomenon that Aro had held a fascination with for several decades. He remembered the trouble that this particular study had caused between them.


	23. Chapter 23

The fascination with the phenomenon that could change a vampire was something that Aro had written of extensively in his histories. Love had held his fascination for some time. He knew that his and Didyme's story were part of his writings.

Interestingly enough, Aro's fascination with the emotion of love had started when he had found Sulpicia. Then when Caius had found Athenadora and he had eventually found Didyme he had seen it as his own personal study. Love had changed the coven.

His interest in how loss could change vampires came about when he had observed Didyme's reaction to Juvenal's death. In addition to wear colors that seemed to reflect her mourning, she was no longer as carefree or open as she had been before the vampire child's death.

As he walked back towards his chambers, away from the gardens, he let his mind mull over his brother's histories. He'd never really thought about how Didyme was the catalyst for his study on loss. He only remembered Aro talking about how loss could be such a deep emotion that it could fundamentally change the make-up of who a vampire was.

_Didyme_.

His poor wife.

After Juvenal's death she had only smiled for him, and the only smiles she had had for Aro, Caius, and their wives had been forced. Although he had never asked, he knew that she blamed them for not doing more to help the boy.

Aro had watched this change in her behavior with fascination.

As he walked into the Tower his thoughts lingered on this thought. How had it taken him this long to realize that that had been the trigger?

Instead of heading to his chambers he moved towards the library. It was evening so he knew that Aro would be spending time with Sulpicia. Walking into the room that was supposed to be a communal area, but that everyone knew was truly Aro's territory, he ignored the smell that was unique to ancient texts and went directly to the section that he was interested in.

Most of Aro's writings from different time periods had been collected into large, leather bound tomes. Walking through the rows of bookshelves he came to the section he was looking for and he slowly brushed his long, white, slender fingers along the worn spines of the books there. Finding the right one, he pulled it from the self and began to flip through it.

His brother's handwriting was familiar, but he had only seen it in notes his brother had written to him or from a distance as his brother wrote things down. He had never actually taken interest in his brother's writings. No one really did, though he had said that since it was the history of all their kind, it was open to them.

He was putting that suggestion to the test without even thinking that he might be doing some wrong.

The particular book he had chosen from the collection was specifically about the vampire children. He remembered Aro describing them as a "scourge that must be obliterated from their world."

What he saw in the book surprised him and what Aro had told Edward and the others was true, he was rarely surprised. The second page in the text was not one that Aro had produced.

He had.

Whereas Aro had always had a gift for research, observation, and writing, Marcus' gift had been art. Before him was an example of his talent. It was a picture he had drawn that he thought had been lost long ago.

He still remembered the day he had drawn it with perfect clarity. Didyme had been sitting in their chambers, holding Juvenal, rocking him gently while humming some ancient tune from her youth. He had sketched the image of them cuddled together thinking that they looked better than any Madonna and child that he had ever seen represented in art.

Juvenal had asked if he could have the portrait and he had been hesitant, but in the end he had agreed because he knew it would make Didyme happy.

How had Aro ended up in possession of the portrait and how had it ended up being part of this tome?

As he ran his fingers over the page he wondered why Aro had done this.

It wasn't clear to him how long he'd stood there gazing at his wife and her..._their_ adopted son, but after a while he finally found the strength to stop gazing at the image and closing the book he tucked it under his arm and moved towards his chambers once again. He knew he would not be disturbed there and he wanted to peruse this without being bothered.

Once in his chambers he sat at the desk in one corner and began to read the book again. He wanted to be done by daybreak. Considering the size of the text this might be difficult for a mortal, but the immortal body and mind worked differently. He did not need to stop and blink or rest his eyes and his mind could take in the information before him quickly.

There were several things that he realized as he read one of Aro's histories for the first time. One thing that was clearly apparent was that these were not impartial studies.

Aro had the gift of looking within people's minds, to know their ever thought, memory, and emotion. Reading his brother's words was like glimpsing into his mind.

He wondered if Aro realized this. He was always so nonchalant about his brothers having access to the histories that they had thought nothing of it, but he was just beginning to see just how devious his brother was and that this might have been his way of deterring them from reading what he had written, reverse psychology in a way.

Yes, reading this story of vampire children he was beginning to see just how unscrupulous and sinister he truly was.

When he had first seen his drawing he had thought that the only thing that could hurt and anger him more was if he found more of his work between the covers. He had been wrong. Though there were several more drawings of his wife that he considered of a rather personal nature, one showing her staring longingly out a window, looking as if she were on the verge of tears and another of her holding the small leather pouch of Juvenal's ashes, it was actually Aro's _words_ that raised such ire in him that by the time he finished the last page everything he looked upon had taken on a crimson tinge.


	24. Chapter 24

He had always known that Aro was an observer. He studied the actions and interactions of the individuals that were around him. He'd never really thought it a problem.

He remembered how Aro had looked at Didyme different after Juvenal's death. He of course attributed it to the fact that Didyme had been different, but reading he knew it was more than that.

Aro had been studying her.

She had become an animal in a zoo to him, something to be observed and studied. Aro saw her as a means of advancing his histories on their kind. Because of Didyme he had become interested in loss.

_Didyme_.

She had inadvertently become the catalyst for the beginning of the war among their kind in which vampire children were eradicated.

Marcus had never thought of his wife as being the reason that things had turned out the way she had, but reading Aro's words there was now no doubt in his mind.

Thinking back he remembered the way that things had gone after Juvenal's death. She had been like a zombie for a while, void of emotion and barely speaking. Slowly, with his help, she had started to come back to life, but she had never been the same.

When Aro had brought two more vampire children into the coven to see if what had occurred with Juvenal had been nothing more than a fluke, he had been grateful, at least at first. He had thought that his brother had brought the children in as way of helping Didyme move on.

Now he knew the truth.

Aro had been toying with her. Perhaps he should have suspected it, but he had been so concerned about his wife that he did not consider that his brother might be acting in a devious manner.

Didyme had not left their chambers for days after the child's death, most of the time she wanted to be left alone. When she had finally found solace in his arms, he had hoped she was getting better.

Aro had asked after her a lot during those days. He had chalked it up to concern, not morbid curiosity, but that's all it had been.

The first time that Didyme had come out of their rooms after Juvenal's loss, he had seen the anticipation in Aro's gaze. This time there were two children a beautiful little girl with blond curls that couldn't have been more than three when she was turned, and a little boy of about five that had dark hair and crimson eyes.

Surprising all of them, Didyme had not even spared them a glance.

When Aro had tried to broach the subject with her a pained look had crossed her face and a simple look from Marcus had silenced him on the subject.

But, reading now, he understood that though he had said nothing to Marcus or Didyme, Aro had been far from silent on the subject. He had written extensively about Didyme, so much so that the first few sections of the tome he had read on vampire children was about her.

Marcus was incensed.

He considered this an invasion of his and his wife's privacy. How dare Aro do this?!

Eventually he saw just how twisted his brother's mode of thinking was. He saw the way Juvenal's lost had fundamentally changed who Didyme was. Her personality had been as completely altered as he and his brothers' personalities had been after they had met their mates. They had never been the same. _She_ had never been the same.

Aro had noted that, as it was with true love and mates, a vampire could probably love a child so much that that child could not just be replaced. He had first noted this phenomenon with Didyme and had decided to put it to the test with other covens that had vampire children in their midst.

It had not been difficult to convince Caius that the vampire children were and abomination that needed to be destroyed. Caius had a sadistic nature. They all knew it.

Marcus had been the voice of descent. He did not believe that it was necessary to kill all the vampire children. True, they had been a threat, but when under proper supervision there was little to no danger.

Both his brothers believed his opinion was tainted because of Didyme's relationship with Juvenal. He had been outvoted.

He had detached himself from the process, merely watching as the Volturi guard had taken down those who defended the vampire children. He tried not to think about what they thought and felt.

Didyme had never accompanied them on these excursions so he rarely had to think about it. Without her there it was easier to distance himself from what went on before him. At least it had been that way until one particular incident.

Flipping through the tome in front of him he opened it to the section that talked about Sasha and Vasili.

He remembered this beautiful woman with her long, dark hair and almond shaped eyes. Her death along with that of the vampire child she had created had affected him more than any other. Perhaps because he saw that what happened to her as she defended the child could have easily have happened to his wife.

_Didyme_.

He had felt a chill of horror run through him for such a long time after Juvenal's death, having waking nightmares about having to restrain her so she would not follow the boy's twitching limbs into the fire.

As he and his brothers had moved throughout the world, confronting different covens about he vampire children, they had of course encountered resistance. Covens of vampires had fought to the last member to defend the tiny immortal beings, but strangely enough the only case he remembered moment by moment was that of Sasha and her little Vasili.

Opening the book to that particular tale he found a drawing of Sasha and frowned. She had been so different in looks from his wife, but he had seen so much of Didyme in her behavior that day centuries ago when they had arrived at the small village north of the Arctic Circle.

Yes, the long, dark, straight hair and almond shaped eyes were a marked difference to his wife's flaming curls, and wide, doe-like gaze. Even their mannerisms couldn't have been more different. Before Juvenal's death Didyme had had a happy, open demeanor. Sasha had been a kind woman, but she had been subdued and more reserved in her mannerisms.

The thing that made the alike was the love that they had had for two vampire boys that were destined to die.


	25. Chapter 25

Sasha and Vasili's incident was one of he last that they dealt with during the eradication of the vampire children. As usual he had stood in the background as Sasha and the members of her coven were interrogated.

Strangely enough it was the first time that he began to show apathy towards his duties as a leader in the vampire world. He didn't notice; he simply thought of it as keeping himself distant from distasteful proceedings.

Aro had noticed though and he wasn't pleased. He had blamed Didyme, but never voiced this opinion.

Aro stood by and watched with apathy as Aro and Caius catechized Sasha's daughters. He hadn't needed Aro's gift to see that the three sisters, Tanya, Irina, and Kate, knew nothing about their younger brother Vasili.

As the three beautiful vampire women stood there, fear apparent in their crimson eyes, their mother, Sasha, stood calmly by, amazingly so considering the circumstances. She just stood there, Vasili in her embrace as she tried to calm him. There was fear in her eyes, but also resignation, as if she knew what was coming, but accepted it. It was that look that had reminded him of his wife.

_Didyme_.

She had also known what was coming due to her gift, but she had accepted it. That hadn't made it any easier when the end had come. At that moment he felt sympathy for this vampire and her coven.

When it came time to counsel, Aro and Caius sensed what he was feeling. Aro was surprised; Caius was incensed. Marcus could sense Aro's fascination with the emotions he was feeling as well as with the direction of his thoughts.

For the first time, one of them was suggesting mercy.

Caius was shocked by this turn of events. Aro just seemed intrigued by them.

In the end, mercy had been granted to Sasha's three daughters. Aro agreed with Marcus, the three women knew nothing about the child and therefore should not be punished.

Although Caius was not pleased by this turn of events, he saw it as a sort of compromise that at the very least Sasha and Vasili would die.

Standing back he watched as Sasha whispered what he could only assume was her goodbyes to her three daughters, the young boy clinging to her long skirts the whole while. There was very little time after that.

He could tell that the daughters were distraught, that they had questions. Questions that would always remained unanswered.

As the guard stepped forward and began to tear apart the boy vampire and his mother, the unique ripping sound filling the air, along with the sobs of the three beautiful vampire women who stood by in confusion, the events of the last several hours too much for even their vampire minds to process in such a short span of time.

Their mother, along with the brother they never knew existed, was gone.

After Aro had made his usual offer for Kate, the talented sister, to join their coven and she had declined, they had left.

For the days and weeks that followed Aro seemed more interested in Marcus and his actions. He had purposely sought out Didyme and Marcus' company, something he had rarely if ever done before.

The day of Sasha and Vasili's death and set dangerous ideas in motion for him, but neither Marcus nor Didyme had realized it.

Didyme only knew because of her gift that an event she had known was coming for decades was creeping closer with each passing day. She had no idea where the shadow of death was coming from, but she already felt its darkness touching upon her own vampire life.

She did not share this with Marcus.

Marcus stayed in his rooms after reading the volume concerning the vampire children. In fact, he stayed there for several days. He did not even come down to feed.

His brothers and their wives along with the other members of the coven did not question this behavior. They simply figured that he was in another one of his melancholy moods.

Eventually he was called down because of a visitor.

If he was surprised at seeing the face that had been in his thoughts recently, he didn't show it. If he was curious about the purpose of the visit, that was also hidden away.

Irina. Strange that she should appear when he had been going over the last time he had seen her and her sisters over and over again in his mind.

Like other vampires she had not change physically other than the fashion she wore that reflected the times they lived in. What he was slightly intrigued by was the anger she saw in her features.

It wasn't that he hadn't seen that look of anger before, far from it. He had seen her anger mixed with pain on the day that her mother had been taken from her, but this time the anger seemed to be coming from a completely different place.

But, not even her anger was enough to hold his interest and he sat there, bored, uncaring, letting his mind drift back to his wife again as she spoke.

_Didyme_.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he was paying some attention to what Irina had to say, but his thoughts about Didyme sitting in their field, the sun glinting off of her skin in sparkles was much more pleasant and intriguing.

Then she mentioned the one thing that could draw his attention away from those wonderful memories.

She mentioned Carlisle's coven.

And with that he turned his thoughts to the bond between Edward and Bella.

Apparently there were some interesting bits of news that their visitor had to share with them, news that might make it more than a bit difficult to complete the promise he'd made to himself to assist the young couple.

Bella and Edward had gotten married…but she had not been changed.

He didn't understand the boy holding out. Apparently Edward was stronger than Marcus himself had ever been. He still had no doubts that the boy would change the girl, but he did not understand the delay.

As if Caius did not need another reason to pounce on the opportunity to attack and Aro did not need another excuse to try and bring the gifted vampires in the group into their coven, there was more.

Apparently there was a possibility that Carlisle and his family were associating with werewolves.

Werewolves? Why would Carlisle choose to do such a thing?

He briefly glanced at Caius knowing his brother would react badly to this turn of events. He was not disappointed. Caius was growling in his seat.

Why was this turning out to be more complicated than necessary? Though of course he should have realized it would. True love never took a fully easy and uncomplicated path. He knew that from his own story, but really, it should have been easier than this.


	26. Chapter 26

He wasn't surprised when Aro sent Irina to gather more information regarding Carlisle's coven. Caius was all for going straight away and dealing with the situation.

Aro said he needed to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Marcus knew that this was merely a means of allowing Aro to gather more ammunition and allow him more time to plot.

How strange that he had known his brother for centuries and yet in many ways he was just beginning to know and understand him. It wasn't that he had been unobserving before, it was simply that his decision to study Aro's histories.

Aro had always said over the years that you never really knew a person till you knew their thoughts. Aro was right.

Marcus had always thought of his brother as a calculating individual, but he never realized just how _devious_ and _deceitful _his brother truly was.

Every move that had been made over the years under the guise of research or the welfare of the vampire population around the globe had been nothing more than a way for Aro to sate his curiosity or advance his own position. Even he and Caius were pieces on a chess board that he used to gain power and make things seem more balanced to outsiders.

He had learned this after he had decided to read the histories from the beginning after the revelations of the volume on vampire children.

It was fascinating and frightening all at once.

Fascinating because Aro was an intelligent being with a complicated mind, but it was frightening to realize just how little he knew about a being that had been part of his life for so long.

He knew what was coming. It didn't really matter what evidence Irina brought back to them. Aro had already set things in motion. Caius might be complaining because things would take more time, but he had not argued more because he _knew_ things would come to a head soon enough.

And, both of them expected Marcus' apathy.

He had always thought that his own disconnect from the operations of the coven had come about after his wife's death. Now he saw how wrong he was. She had been the catalyst, but in a much different way.

_Didyme_.

After the incident with Sasha and Vasili he had begun to withdraw from his duties as one of the Volturi coven. He just hadn't cared as much. He could see how their actions had already hurt the one thing he truly cared about…

…_Didyme_…

…his whole reason for being.

When they had come back from the execution of Sasha and Vasili, he had spent more and more time with Didyme. She had seemed happy to have him all to herself and at her side again. In those days they had barely seen his brothers or their wives.

They spent time in their chambers, finding pleasure in each other's arms. They had visited their field more often. It was also during that period that he had carved her statue.

He remembered how he'd bought the piece of marble right out from under Michelangelo's nose. It was a perfect piece of stone.

In the end he'd done the artist a favor. Michelangelo had had to settle for an imperfect piece of marble to make his David. It had taken some work for him to figure out how to balance the figure in the flawed stone, but he'd studied the marble and created a work of genius that was known the world over.

Marcus' own carving might not have been as well known, but it was no less perfect. The few people who had seen it commented on how she seemed so lifelike she could have walked right off the pedestal and through the grass.

It had been perfection because he knew every curve of her body not only by look, but by touch. He had the feel of her limbs and the planes of her figure memorized. It hadn't been much of a stretch to transform that memory into a work of art.

She had sat patiently by, watching as he worked, chiseling away bit by bit, sometimes even using his fingers to carve, but then that was advantage of having immortal flesh.

Her smile had told him that she loved it.

As he neared finishing it, he had not let her watch him work anymore. Instead he had set up a grand unveiling for her at their field.

He had run with her there right after sunset, but had stopped her before they got too close.

Reaching out for her he smiled and had pulled her close, his breath softly stirring the riot of curls near her ear. "No, allow me." He had lifted her up into his arms then and taken his time walking through the waist high grass and wildflowers.

She had smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she snuggled against him. "I love when you carry me."

He had laughed softly and kissed her cheek, nuzzling it a bit. "I'd carry you everywhere if you'd let me."

She had only chuckled in return.

As they reached the middle of the field he whispered, "Look up." Lifting her head she saw a large column of cloth. She looked at him with surprise and slowly grinned, knowing what it was.

"It's finished?"

He nodded and kissed her neck, smiling as that caused her to shiver a bit. "Pull off the fabric."

She had shifted in his arms, reaching out to do so, the soft rustling of the cloth moving against the polished marble filling the air around them as he continued to kiss and lick at her neck.

Then there was nothing but silence.

Lifting his head with a frown he saw her wide-eyed, surprised look and his first instinct was that she did not approve. He tried to keep the disappointment from his tone. "You don't like it?"

She looked at him after several minutes had passed, though it seemed like an eternity to him. Her voice was awed when she spoke, "That cannot be me."

He shook his head. "It is, but you're right, it doesn't do you justice." He was worried…he knew she was more beautiful than he could ever hope to represent in art.

She had turned her gaze slowly from his back to the statue and slipping from his arms she easily stepped up on the pedestal to stand next to her statue. Running her hand along the cold marble cheek she whispered, "It's too beautiful to be me."

He pulled her down and yanking her against him he had lightly swatted at her rear. "You will never see just how perfect you are, will you?"

At that she could only giggle and wiggle her rear a bit against his hand which was still resting there.


	27. Chapter 27

It wasn't long before Irina had returned with her report, and what she said was surprising. Apparently Carlisle and his coven _had_ lost their mind. An immortal child? What had they been thinking?

From what the Denali vampire had described, the child had been seen with Bella, and Bella was now a vampire. Why had this happened? Had Edward perhaps wanted to provide his young vampire bride with a family? Had Carlisle not warned him of the consequences?

Having just recently read Aro's history of the vampire children he knew there were no loopholes, no way around the fact that the child would have to die and that the rest of the coven would have to be punished.

Perhaps his brother would have his way after all and bring the gifted members of Carlisle's coven into the fold of their coven after all.

And, he was helpless to stop it.

He knew as his brothers began to plan to take down Carlisle and his family that Caius was interested in a fight and Aro was interested in…acquisitions. He let them go about planning, not participating, but then again, this was not unusual behavior on his part so they thought nothing of it.

As they made arrangements he stood silently by, letting his mind wander to times when he was happier, times when he felt good emotions rather than the emptiness and sometimes intense anger that seemed to overtake him in more recent times. He thought of _her_.

_Didyme_.

What finally did catch his attention was something that Caius said.

"I will not go without Athenadora."

This surprised him and Aro both. The wives had never gone on such escapades with them, not even when Didyme was still alive.

Aro was the one that finally spoke. "And, why would we take the lovely Athenadora to what could potentially be a battle site, brother?"

Caius was never the type to keep quiet or take others feelings into consideration so at first Marcus did not understand his trepidation at answering Aro's question. Then, as he spoke, he realized that the hesitation stemmed from his presence. Interesting. He never thought that Caius would be intimidated by his presence but, as his brother continued, he understood the reason why.

"The last time we took the majority of the Coven and the Guard to deal with a similar situation and we left our wives behind, we lost…Marcus' mate."

Yes, he could see why Caius had been hesitant. No one brought up Didyme around him, much less what had happened to her. He felt the anger rising inside of him. His brothers noticed this, too.

It was Aro that tried to stop the situation from escalating and looking at Marcus he actually looked a bit nervous. "Come now Marcus, can you blame Caius his fears." When Marcus said nothing he continued, hesitation in his own voice now as they continued on this dangerous topic, "If you, no, if _we_ had known we would have done the same thing then."

Marcus' gaze finally shifted away from Caius scowling, if squirming, form, and he turned to face Aro. Staring at his brother silently he finally nodded and got up, leaving them to their planning.

He was incensed that Caius had brought up the one period he had avoided thinking of for centuries now, the loss of his heart.

_Didyme_.

As the war over the children vampires had raged on and that particular segment of their society had been abolished, they had also grown more and more powerful within the vampire community. The Romanians had still been making scattered attempts to regain some semblance of control, but all their attempts had been futile.

There had also been some other ancient, scattered covens that had tried to unseat their position, but they had not succeeded either. Though they had made the mistake of underestimating how far their enemies had been willing to go.

When they had left to try and judge a one of the last covens hiding a pair of immortal children he had said goodbye to Didyme like he'd always had. True, he had been a bit surprised at the intensity he sensed in the days leading to his departure.

She had always been a bit clingy when she knew that he had to go on an extended excursion with his brothers, but he understood how she felt, hating to be separated from her as well. That time though, he had not really thought about the fact that she hadn't wanted to leave his side, not even for a second.

He had teased her about the fact that she wanted to spend every moment they could manage in their room, making love. He had indulged her whim when she wanted to go to their field and just spend time there laughing and reminiscing about the centuries they'd spent together.

It was only later that he realized that she had been saying goodbye in her own way.

_Didyme_.

His love had been preparing him for her absence. Her gift had warned her of what was to come.

Of course she had been preparing him for the eventuality of her death from the very beginning, never promising him forever. She had known that this was coming by virtue of her gift. In the days before he left the preparation had become more intense while not giving anything away.

It was as if she was meticulously going over every happy moment of their time together, making sure he wouldn't forget.

Lying in their field, near her statue, arms wrapped around each other as the tall wildflowers tickled at their skin, they laughed about their first meeting.

Twirling a long strand of his ebony locks around her finger she teased him with a smile. "You were surprised when I spoke to you before you could get a word in edgewise, admit it?"

He had laughed in response and let his finger trace along the skin of her bare shoulder and arm. "I have never denied it."

She leaned in and kissed his neck with a chuckle. "You never have admitted to it either."

Even a simple kiss like that had had the ability to send a thrill coursing through him and he had shivered a bit in delight, smiling at her words. "Mmm, I was more stunned by your beauty than your forwardness, my love."

Letting out a startled laugh she lifted her head to look at him. "Forwardness!?"

He had just grinned at her in response and moving so he was laying on her, pressing her into the ground he had pinned her arms against her head as he felt his hard body pressing into her curves. "Yes, forwardness. Quite a wanton wench my wife is."

She had tried to look outraged at his words, but that didn't work very well as she giggled at his words even as her hands started to tug at his clothes. "I've only ever wanted you, Marcus, my love."

He had smiled at her words and whispered, "I love you and only y…," but before he could continue she had kissed him and done very distracting things to him.


	28. Chapter 28

The preparations to go meet and try Carlisle's coven were underway. It wasn't just a simple matter of packing up and going, not when a trial was taking place at this level.

Aro was taking the entire coven, the entire guard, but in addition to that he was calling up witnesses. Aro was making sure that this "trial" had a wide-spread effect. This was not just about acquisition; it was about implanting fear into the minds and hearts of vampires far and wide.

It was his way of showing that the Volturi were still in charge. They were the ultimate authority in the vampire world.

Marcus could care less.

He had no aspirations when it came to ruling the vampire world or expanding the powers of their guard. He did what he did because, well, he had to.

The only thing he wondered about as the preparations were made was what would happen to Bella and Edward. Was there anything that he could do for them now? He knew that his brothers had a plan. Caius wanted to punish them for the relationship with the werewolves that Irina had mentioned as well as for the immortal child. Aro didn't care what they ended up being punished for in the end as long as he acquired gifted members for the guard.

Marcus was beginning to feel that there was nothing he could do to help Bella and Edward, despite his intentions.

He had been drawn to the couple because of their bond, but he had no influence over his brothers when it came to things like this. He was only one voice and if both his brothers were intent on seeing the couple and the whole family destroyed there was little to nothing he could do.

He would voice his objections of course, but what then? He would still be the only voice of dissent.

When it was finally time to leave, he briefly let his thoughts ponder on the fact that transportation had changed so much over the centuries. There had been times when they had not bothered with horses since traveling on foot had been much faster than the means of travel available to mortals. They had even preferred to swim rather than rely on the slow ships that humans used to cross great distances of water.

It was only very recently that they had begun to utilize different forms of travel. Planes were fast enough for them and allowed them to travel in much more comfort. He still remembered his first time on a plane. It had been an experience of wonder that he never thought to experience again in his immortal life.

As an immortal one could run so fast or jump so far and high that it almost seemed as if they were flying. _Almost_. Flying through the clouds was a very different experience. His wonder and awe had only lasted so long as gloom descended on him once again. His Didyme would never experience this wonder.

_Didyme_.

They had a private jet now, something that they rarely utilized, but that was available to them when needed. It was no strain on their accounts, nothing really was. They had more money and assets than most countries.

As they flew towards their destination he looked at Caius and Athenadora and Aro and Sulpicia. His brothers' bonds with their wives were as strong as they had been centuries ago. Neither couple had ever been the type to openly display affection as he and Didyme had been, but in addition to his gift allowing him to see their bonds he noticed the small things.

Sitting nearby Caius was looking out the window but, at the moment, there was no scowl on his face, instead it was expressionless. That was the closest that Caius got to a genuine smile of affection. Athenadora was at his side, working with a piece of fabric fitted in an embroidery hoop, a pastime from her human life that had never faded away, even if she was not very skilled at the art. And, though there seemed to be no communication between the two, he noticed the way Caius' hand rested gently on Athenadora's leg and the way that she would let her eyes wander to her husband every now and then.

Yes, there was genuine affection and love there.

The same held true for Aro and Sulpicia. Aro had a book open in front of him and didn't seem to be paying any attention to the beautiful immortal sitting at his side, but one had to notice the subtle way in which the couple interacted. The light was filtering in through the windows of the jet and set all their skin shimmering as the rays fell upon their skin. Though she had probably seen it before, Sulpicia seemed fascinated by the way that the light played on her husband's immortal skin. Aro's hand was laying face up on his lap and she was smiling softly to herself letting her finger gently run against the shimmering caresses on the inside of his palm, watching her finger's path the whole time. One would assume that Aro was paying no heed to his wife's actions, but every time she stopped moving her fingertip along his skin's surface his fingers would curl up a bit, a subtle, almost indistinguishable movement meant to encourage her to continue. In response to this she would merely smile and continue to caress him.

Seeing this Marcus let his own hand wander to his own hand which rested on the arm rest by his side and he ached. Didyme should be there by his side, reaching for him, touching him.

_Didyme_.

As his own fingers curled towards his palm, seeking a touch that would never come, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of his chair. She should be sitting here by his side.

Being in close proximity to his brothers and their mates for so long was wearing on him. Feeling their bonds was like feeling daggers since his own bond, a hundred times stronger than theirs, had been severed so long ago, and yet he yearned to feel a fraction of what they felt again. He wanted his mate. He wanted his wife. He wanted his life back instead of this pointless, boring existence.

He would never have any of that.

Sighing he looked out the window at the sun setting over the ocean outside. The horizon had taken on beautiful hues of purples, reds, oranges, pinks, and yellow. He _almost_ smiled as he thought about how excited Didyme would have been to see this, but the smile never developed since he knew that that would never happen.


	29. Chapter 29

When the Volturi sent word out, things happened quickly in the vampire world. When they arrived in Seattle just past dusk it wasn't long before they were at the rendezvous point that they had set up. The amount of witnesses that had shown up was impressive, but Marcus could already tell that many of them were not there out of loyalty towards the leaders of their world. Some of them were there out of curiosity; he, his brothers, and their guard had become a fable to some of the younger vampires. Most of them were out of fear though.

Both Aro and Caius didn't care why they were there; Marcus didn't care about anything.

His interest was almost piqued by the information that reached them suggesting that Carlisle and his family had begun to put together an army of sorts.

So perhaps Bella and Edward had done something wrong after all.

Pity.

As they moved towards the town of Forks he knew that there was probably little he could do for the vampire and his bride. The strong bond he saw could not be preserved. Perhaps bonds as strong as Edward and Bella's and his and Didyme's were not meant to last. If he had a heart, if he had any feeling left, he might have felt it grow heavier at such a thought.

_Didyme_.

He almost sighed.

As they moved through the thick forest that seemed so abundant in this place and got closer to the strangely named town of forks, the buzz of fear and excitement seemed to fill the air around them. It was coming from his brothers, from the guard, the witnesses. It was coming from everyone from him.

He didn't care.

Strangely enough, for the first time he wished he did. Maybe if he felt more passionate about this he could do something to help the young couple, but he saw it all as inevitable. Didyme had taught him that certain things could not be stopped. He had just been unaccepting and unwilling to see that.

It had made him unprepared for her death.

He remembered when they had left Voltaire to deal with a coven that was said to be hiding an immortal child somewhere in the new world.

Didyme had seemed reluctant, but resigned to let him go. He had teased her about it.

"Miss me that much, will you? I'm sure you actually look forward to my being away since I can't keep my hands off of you." He'd groped her rear to prove his point.

Usually she would have giggled and wiggled her hips a bit in response, instead she had only wrapped her arms around him and held him close, whispering in his ear, "I never look forward to your being away and I could spend eternity in your arms."

He had smiled at her words, not really noticing her serious tone, and he'd held her close and whispered, "Well, then it's is fortunate that we are what we are, isn't it?"

She said nothing in response and had merely kissed him. It was a kiss filled with such intensity and passion that he got lost in it for a moment and was returning the passion in kind. He would have carried her off then and there if it hadn't been for Aro clearing his throat and chuckling nearby, watching them with interest.

"I hate to interrupt, but we must be going, Marcus."

Didyme had squeezed him a bit tighter, the reluctance to let him go surfacing once again, before she let him go with a sad whisper, "Go."

Marcus had kissed her once again before moving towards Aro who was no speaking to Didyme, "Don't worry, sister, I will bring him back soon."

Didyme had only nodded and watched them go.

Marcus had winked at her once over his shoulder and then they were gone.

It was the last time he saw her.

_Didyme_.

Walking through the forest he took in the strange scents of this new place, hoping that the deep breaths he took filled with new aromas would some how wash away the memories that were threatening to resurface.

He had not thought about the last time he'd seen his wife in ages. His fear was that those memories would lead to what happened afterwards, and now was not the time or place to think of that.

As they hurried through the forest, the air around them taking on that dim glow that always seemed to come right before sunrise, he felt a hand brush against his own and he turned to look at Aro, his own features expressionless. He knew his brother was merely checking on him and his thoughts.

Aro's touch did not linger for long though and he arched a brow as he spoke, "You should concentrate on the job ahead, brother."

Marcus had merely shrugged and replied, "I have never failed our coven, Aro, why would I start now?"

Aro had only smiled, "You know that there is no help to it, Marcus; they have broken the rules. But, perhaps we could find some leniency in our hearts for these two and some members of their family."

Marcus knew that heart had little to nothing to do with any leniency they might show. Aro wanted Edward and Alice because of their powers and, if the talents that Bella had displayed as a human were enhanced now that she was turned, well, then that was just another addition to their half-living collection of immortals that made up the guard.

_Perhaps Bella and Edward would live after all_, he thought. But, it was so difficult to feel hope when you didn't feel much of anything anymore. His hope had died long ago along with his wife.

_Didyme_.


	30. Chapter 30

**I know that this is a very short chapter, but at least I'm adding to the story, right?**

**I'll try to add more in the next couple of days, but would really be encouraged by some reviews.**

**Thanks,**

**Damsell**

*******

As they approached the clearing where he felt the various bonds, including the one that was as strong as his and his wife's, he wondered if they felt the same sense of panic he had once felt. Did they know that the end was near?

He had been in the New World dealing with some coven that made their home in the wilderness of North America when he had felt an inexplicable panic. They had only finished dealing with the members of the vampire family, burning them and the demon spawn with an angel's visage that they had created, when he had felt as if his bond with Didyme had been severed.

He did not know what had happened. He did not understand.

Wordlessly had had rushed away from his brothers and their guard and had started to make his way back to Italy, back to Voltaire, back to her.

_Didyme!_

He had moved faster than anyone of his kind ever had, so fast that even his brothers and the rest of the coven that had accompanied them on their expedition could not keep up.

He hadn't thought of it, but if he had, he would have realized that Edward and his Bella would not run. They probably realized that there was nothing they could do, nowhere they could go. If he were capable of emotion he might be awed by the fact that they met the slow moving formation of the Volturi coven bravely, ready…

Were they really ready? He doubted it.

One was never ready to lose someone that they were connected to in such a way. He had not been prepared and it had changed who he was at his very core.

As their well regimented formation came to a halt, he took in the sight before him. And, what a sight it was! Vampires from all over and wolves! He almost spared a glance towards his brother Caius, knowing how much his brother hated werewolves of any sort, but he didn't care enough to actually look to see his brother's reaction. What did it matter?

He let his gaze wander, already bored with what was occurring. Why should he continue to think about the strong bond he felt between Edward and Bella when it was either going to be broken or the couple was going to be acquired as part of their guard and he would have the rest of eternity to think on it?

He heard the murmurings of the groups in front and behind him, but he ignored them as he let his mind wander again. It was so hard for him to be close to Edward and Bella. The bond between them seemed even stronger now that she had been turned. It was hard because it was almost like having Didyme near him again, as if he could feel his bond with her, but of course it was a lie.

He paid a bit of attention as Carlisle started to speak. "Aro, my old friend. It's been centuries."

Friends? No, they were not friends. The bond that had once between Aro and Carlisle had been one of friendship, but that time had come and gone.

As Aro approached and said, "Peace," he began to be a meeting with words passed that were nothing but lies.

Lies.

The world was full of them.

He had told Didyme that they would have forever, have eternity. That had been a lie, and unintentional lie, but a lie nonetheless.

He let his mind wander back to the conversation at hand and heard another unintentional lie from Carlisle. "I have not committed the crime you are here to punish me for."

Did Carlisle not realize that people got punished all the time for crimes they did not commit? He only had to look at the Volturi guard to see that. Its ranks were filled with those that had been punished over the years, vampires who had lost all those close to them, forced to be part of the ranks that kept the Volturi coven safe.

He had been punished.

He had lost his wife…his life…his reason to exist.

As his brother mentioned the immortal child that had been the chink in the armor that had surrounded Carlisle's coven for so long he let his eyes wander to the child and he saw the strong bond again, but the bond to the child was just as strong.

They could not live without each other or the child, or they could, but it would be a half existence like the one he had.

It was not an existence worth living…or not living, whatever the case may be.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: First, please let me start of by apologizing. I know that I haven't updated in, well, forever. Real life has gotten in the way, but that's no excuse. I'm sure that at this point I've lost most if not all of my original readers, but I hope that some people stumbled upon this story again or are experiencing it for the first time.**

**I hope that this chapter somewhat makes up for things and, additionally, as another form of penance I promise to answer each and every review! (Though I can't answer if they are made anonymously or through guest accounts.)**

**I know that there will be questions at the end of this chapter.**

**Edited & resubmitted: I've republished this with a few additions and edits since I wanted to add a bit more description!**

**~.~.~.~.~**

Caius' voice broke through his thoughts and sighing he let his eyes shift away from the small vampire family and he shifted his crimson gaze in his brother's direction. What was he saying?

"We see the child, Carlisle," Caius snarled. "Do not treat us as fools."

My, wasn't he predictable and boring?

The argument continued and he only half-paid attention as Carlisle insisted that none of this was as it seemed. According to their old, gentle friend, the gathering before them was not an army, they were simply witnesses, witnesses that the child wasn't a forbidden life.

He let his bored gaze wander to Edward, Isabella, and the child again. They seemed, frightened, unsure. Did they know that the end was near? That another great love was coming to an end?

At least they had some warning.

He had had none.

He had raced across seas, oceans, and continents to reach Voletrra after he felt the bond between himself and Didyme severed. He was so crazed that he did not bother to conceal himself and he killed whatever living creature he came upon, leaving a trail of death in his wake as he rushed across oceans and contents to try and reach her. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that only one thing could break the bond between them, but his un-beating heart refused to believe it.

When the bond had stopped, it was as if he had a pulse again, his life keeping rhythm by the beat of her name in his head.

_Didyme. Didyme. Didyme._

It didn't stop. He didn't want it to stop till he knew what had happened. He ran through dust storms, rain, snow, and heat. He had to reach her!

When he entered Volterra several nights after leaving his brothers he found chaos. The humans that lived within the city were running, screaming in terror. There were bodies in the dark streets, drained of blood, and he saw vampires terrorizing the mortals that lived within the city walls, but he paid them no mind, being no more than an indistinct blur as he made his way to the Volturi tower, his voice reverberating off the walls as he screamed out in panic, "DIDYME!"

He ran through the front of the building, heading to the garden enclosure that led to the tower when he saw it.

There before the very fountain where he had sketched her holding their son, the cobblestones that made up a path leading to the tower was a charred circle with something shimmering in the moonlight in the center of the burnt, scarred stone. The glint had caught his eye, but that wasn't what made him stop.

Her scent was still clinging to the air.

Stopping he looked to the spot and saw the ring that she had worn from a time before he had first met her more than a millennia before, was lying there, shimmering in the pale moonlight.

And, at that moment he knew.

Walking towards the spot he fell to his knees before it and picked up the ring. It was so small, delicate; so small in fact that he could only fit it onto his pinky finger.

When he slipped the ring into place, his chest rose and fell as soft keening sounds left his mouth, his body rocking a bit back and forth as he knelt there before the spot where his wife had turned to ash. The pain was unimaginable.

The sounds he was making grew louder and louder until they were the most horrific, animalistic screams that anyone could imagine. His fingers dug into blackened cobblestones and he lifted the crumbled pieces of stone and dirt in his fists, screaming. The scream went on and on. He just couldn't stop!

Then, his body seemed to move before his mind could catch up and he was running throughout the city, his sense of scent leading him to the vampires that were still terrifying the populous. They had to have been the ones that killed her!

He gave no thought to the dead humans or the few humans that were left that watched as he tore his wife murderers limb from limb. The city's inhabitants could only watch in awe as he destroyed the monsters that had been attacking for several overcast days.

He gave no thought about keeping any of them alive to understand their motivation in attacking. What did it matter? They had killed her. She was gone. Nothing mattered anymore.

As he tore apart the last of the invaders in the town square before the city's church, he stood there, looking at his hands…looking at the ring that had once rested on _her_ hand.

It was dawn now and for the first time in days, the sun shone through the clouds, clouds that had hovered over the city for days finally disappearing. He did not realize the sight he made with his glimmering flesh, exposed by the tears and gaps in the clothing he wore. It had become nothing but shreds in his hurried journey here. To the priest standing behind him at the door of the church he looked like no less than an angel in peasant's clothing.

The priest came forward, staring at his faceted skin in awe, while purposely avoiding the twitching pieces of flesh that lay around them.

"Who..who are you?" the old man asked in awe.

Marcus' mind was preoccupied with other things and he whispered in a harsh voice, "Marcus." Not caring in the least that he was exposing his true form to this mortal and the others that were coming out of their homes for the first time in days.

The old man fell to his knees in front of him and whispered, "You have…you have saved us."

Marcus looked at the old man in confusion. His mind unable to process what the man was saying. Her name was still beating in his mind like a drum. _Didyme. Didyme. Didyme. _He had no coherent thoughts and could not make sense of what the man was saying. Saved? Who had he saved? The one thing that he thought worth saving was burned and gone, nothing left of her, not even ash.

When he said nothing and just continued to stare at the man in confusion, a look of such complete anguish on his face that it made the old priest look away, the old man miscomprehended and thought the pain he saw was caused by the countless human lives that had been lost. In his mind, only one of God's saints could feel that type of anguish. Not able to look upon Marcus' agony, the priest let his gaze wander to the twitching pieces of vampire flesh that seemed to be coming together around them.

Following his gaze, Marcus spoke in a hoarse voice. "Gather every last piece and burn them."

He didn't even give the man a chance to reply as he ran, seeming to just disappear into thin air even as the old priest whispered, "Saint Marcus…he's driven the vampires away."


End file.
